Permanent Repercussions
by Bren Gail
Summary: Out of necessity, Nell and Callen go deep undercover in an unorthodox joint operation with the FBI and JAG. Out of instinct, the lines of reality blur. Out of choice, boundaries are shattered. Out of survival, there are permanent repercussions. Features occasional appearances of characters from Criminal Minds, JAG, NCIS, and White Collar.
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

It was Monday morning. As soon as Nell Jones arrived to work and parked her car in her usual spot, she felt apprehension crawl down her spine. She shook the feeling off as she walked toward the building with her head down holding her iPad with both hands. While mentally preparing for the onslaught of cases for the week as she checked her email, she did not see the mild danger coming. Ten feet from the entrance of the covert Office of Special Projects, she felt someone bump into her at a brisk speed, and she fell forward and landed upon the concrete on her hands and knees. As she connected with the concrete, skin on her knees and palms were scrapped and she felt something pop in her wrist, she hissed in discomfort and pain. Tears welled up as she tried to stand, trying to use the ground as leverage, because she had chosen to wear heels today, her balance was off kilter; the irritation in her wrist had become more pain than discomfort. Just as she looked around to see if anyone had seen the embarrassing situation, she saw a flash of the back of the suit-clad person whom without a second thought to her safety ran her over. She then, noticed her iPad lying a few feet from her on the concrete face down, and she started to panic. She did not need, as she feared, both a broken wrist and cracked iPad; she wanted neither, but if she had to choose, it would have been the wrist. A wrist could heal, whereas the iPad could not. She could transfer the information to another, but it would be a nuisance to do so, however easily done.

Today had started bad and it kept getting worse. She tried to breathe normally, but the more she tried the harder it became. Like a guardian, angel come to save her, she felt a calming presence emanating strength from behind her. She knew who it was, before she saw or heard him. She slightly shook her head as to not venture down the road of how or why she knew.

"Nell?" G. Callen asked concerned. He walked around her, accessing the damage, as he offered her his right hand and she took it with her left, favoring her right against her abdomen. He nodded to her arm. "Anything broken?"

"I hope not." She answered as she glanced at her discarded iPad to her bruising wrist. "My wrist hurts something fierce, but I don't think it's broken."

"What happened?" He asked, as he made sure she could stand by herself before he let go of her to bend to pick up her iPad. He handed it to her and she took it, holding it with her good hand with a tight grip to prevent it from again falling. "Or who? You tripped, which I highly doubt, or you were pushed." He paused as he noticed her changing how she stood. He looked down and noticed her knees were scrapped and bleeding. He bent his knees down and crouched to check to see if the lacerations were deep enough to need stitches, or a simple bandaging. A simple cleaning and bandaging should fix it, he decided. "Which is it?"

"You've not watched me walk in heels." She retorted, before blushing when she realized that she had practically implied that he watched her walk, at all. He noticed the blush, but chalked it down to the excitement that the fall had created; he gave her a look that told her to get to the point. "I did not trip, and I was not pushed. I was checking my emails from Eric. I was running late, and he sent me the prelim briefing." She paused when he once again gave her, the get to the point look. More tears welled up in her eyes, and he suddenly felt bad, thinking that he was the cause. However, really, it was the stress of the last twenty-four hours. "Someone ran over me, well, bumped into me, and stupid me fell."

"Nell, it wasn't your fault." He assured her. "Let's get inside so I can take a look at your wrist and legs."

Legs? She blushed and she felt incredibly stupid as she walked in step with Callen. She gritted her teeth when she felt him touch her upper back as he guided her through the open hallways of the office. She was acting like a lovesick teenager with a crush, or worse ill-fated lust. What was wrong with her?

She blamed her sister.

And her mother.

They had double-teamed her last night during their weekly Skype call. What was the topic of discussion? What it always was, whenever she spoke to her family; dating, finding the right person, being happy, working too much, ask for vacation time. Yet last night's discussion had, also, went in a direction that she wished it would never ever go again, while her mother was active in the discussion. Sex; her mother had the nerve to tell her, that she needed to get laid. Her sister had encouraged the discussion by stating that any man, or woman (her mother had added), would do. Nell was raised to believe in equal rights, but she preferred men; specifically an older, blue eyed man. She found it, ironic, that not even twelve hours ago, it was insinuated that she was a lesbian, yet here she was blushing and practically drooling over her friend, in essence her boss. She sighed; she thought she had gotten over this silly crush, not the admiration, but the daydreaming crush. The first month of working with the Office of Special Projects had been awkward moment after moment, finished sentence after finished sentence, yet they had started to mesh well, after she not-so-secretly (Hetty knew everything) assisted him during the case of the counterfeit computer chips that never were, which had resulted from a man named Nico breaking into his home. She had proven to Callen that she could be trusted, and he had proven to her that she could trust him. Her thoughts were interrupted, and she focused on her surroundings as he gently guided her to a stop around the corner from their bullpen.

"Nell, you okay?" He asked concerned. She had not said a word since they had entered the building and a quiet Nell was never good. Her eyes had been glossy, but he had pegged it for tears, he was now rethinking it. "Did you hit your head?" He asked, yet did not wait for an answer. He placed his hands on either side of her neck, and gingerly searched for any lumps.

"Callen," She stated, almost screeched, in surprise at his first touch. "Callen, I didn't hit my head."

He continued searching. He was not convinced. Her behavior was odd. A concussion would explain it.

"G." She said firmly and he paused as she captured his intention, she hardly ever called him by his first name, his search stopped, and his fingers lingered above her ears. "I promise, okay?"

He slowly extracted his hands from her hair, scalp; feeling a twinge of discomfort at how he overreacted with concern for no apparent reason, other than her odd behavior. After all, she was Nell. She was quirky. He liked that about her; how she blazed her own path, did things how she wanted to, be herself. In some ways, there were alike, yet others he was almost envious of her. Almost, not quite.

"Okay." He smiled. Her breath caught. It was not often that anyone saw him smile, and it was even less frequent, when she saw one. He was attractive when he was scowling, yet he was breathtaking when he smiled. His smile started to slip as he saw the far off look in her eyes. "Nell? Come on, let's get to my desk, so you can sit down and I can check your wrist and legs out."

When he noticed the red twinge on her cheeks, he instantly realized that it was no longer the excitement of the fall, if it even had been to begin with, that had her cheeks red, but it was he. He had made her blush with his careless remark, innocent, but still careless. He should have known better, if he had said that to anyone else, it would have landed him in a seminar about sexual harassment, but he was never on guard around Nell. He had no reason to be. He trusted her completely. He was free to be himself, whoever that was.

"Um," He muttered awkwardly. She winced as she realized that he had realized. "Yeah, let's go."

She had to take control of the conversation, the situation, or else she would die of mortification, and he awkwardness. She placed her iPad between her abdomen and the forearm nearer her elbow away from the hurt wrist. Her unhurt hand, she barely touched his elbow to stop him. "Callen, it's okay. I know what you meant. Today has been a bad long day, and it is just getting started. Disregard the awkwardness, please."

He shook his head, chuckled. That was Nell, always taking control; no matter what the circumstance, or whom she was taking the control from. "Disregarded. Come on, let's get you all doctored up." He paused. She giggled. He shook his head and smirked at both himself for putting his foot in his mouth again, and the fact that she was now comfortable, or rather more comfortable than she was. "Brat. You know what I mean."

"Brat?" She repeated in mock outrage. She rolled her eyes. "What am I? 5?"

"If the age fits." He retorted as they walked around the corner of the bullpen, into it.

Sam was typing on his red laptop. Callen knew that it was paper work from the last case. Kensi was engrossed in her smart phone, most likely playing Angry Birds. Deeks was holding a Styrofoam coffee cup as he leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He was the first to acknowledge their presence.

"Morning," Deeks greeted then realized it was Nell with Callen. "Dude, Nell, Eric was looking for you, ten minutes ago."

"I was running late." She replied, embarrassed, because she was always early, sometimes even arriving when Hetty did. "I'll go."

"No." Callen corrected. "Eric can wait. This can't."

"Late? Wait?" Sam looked up from his typing and recognized that both Nell and G were late, arriving together, and what did he mean by Eric could wait. His eyebrows raised, his forehead creased, and his eyes widened coming to a conclusion that was out of context. G shot him a look that said, 'don't go there.' Sam glanced from G who took his personal first aid kit out of his go bag, to Nell and his mouth formed a firm line. "Oh, shit, what happened?"

This expletive got Kensi's attention. She looked up. "Good morning, G, Nell." She did not like the idea of Nell hurt. Her small wrist was swelling and bruised. Concerned, Kensi asked, "What happened?"

"Nell, sit, palms facing up." Callen ordered as he pointed to his chair with one hand, and the other set out the necessary supplies he would need. She rolled her eyes, but did what she was asked. She gritted her teeth at the discomfort of the antiseptic he dabbed on her scrapes and cuts. Both Deeks and Kensi blinked in surprise, one surprised that Nell had rolled her eyes, the other surprised at how Callen had talked to her, it was almost, nah, they weren't flirting. Sam half smiled, as he knew that, at least, G had been.

"What am I?" She had begun to repeat the same question, but Callen interrupted her.

"Five?" Callen finished her sentence. He playfully smirked as his eyes twinkled in mischief. "Ain't the same on the other end of the sentence, is it?"

Nell lightly gasped as she narrowed her eyes in mock anger, the corner of her mouth tilting up in rebellion. She deserved that, after all she had finished his sentences more times, than she could remember; although, she was relieved that he did not realize why she finished his sentences. She admired him.

Deeks and Kensi shared a look as they simultaneously got on the same page. They glanced at Sam whom now had a full grin as he shrugged. Callen and Nell _were_ flirting; albeit, lightly, yet any at all, was surprising to the pair of partners, but not Sam. Sam had a theory, and he would get it validated.

Nell truly narrowed her eyes in anger and hissed in pain as he gingerly checked her wrist for broken bones. "It's not broken, but it is bruised, possibly strained, nothing to seriously be concerned about; before you leave today, especially if it gets worse, check with medical for a follow up."

As he wrapped the wrist with an ace bandage, she repeatedly muttered at different volume levels. "Sonavitch."

"Did she?" Deeks started to ask, but stopped as he looked at Nell to Callen then Kensi and Sam then back to Nell as he turned his head to the side, as if that would make it easier to understand what he was witnessing. "Are we in the Twilight Zone? Is it April Fool's?"

"Deeks, _you_ don't need a holiday to be a fool." Sam quipped.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Deeks laughed sarcastically as he playfully held unto his chest. "You wound me."

As Deeks dramatically continued the silent charade of wounded in the heart, Eric sped down the stairs, a look of rapt concern and worry on his face until he saw Nell.

Eric exhaled deeply. "Good you're here, I was really worried." He paused as he took in the scene in front of him, blushing Nell sitting in Callen's chair, Callen crouching on one knee as he steadied Nell's leg by holding her calf in one hand as the other cleaned her knee with gauze. Deeks stopped the dramatics and shared a look with Sam before looking from Eric to Callen to Nell back to Eric. Kensi stared at Nell to gauge her reaction. She was uncomfortable, her eyes looked up at anything above her, and she would not look at either Callen or Eric. Eric continued. "What happened? When did this," he pointed between his best friend and friend whom was his boss. "Happen?"

Kensi narrowed her eyes as she realized that he was the fourth person to ask that, yet no answer given.

"Me." She squeaked under the scrutiny that Eric subjected her. She understood the question, filed it in her mind to answer later, but refused to comment in front of the team, more importantly the man kneeling in front of her. She pointed to herself then to the ground. "Heels."

"Oh," Eric replied as if those two words explained what happened.

"Oh-kay," Deeks drawled in the attempt to distract the awkwardness that had settled. "You Techies, me no speak your partner language. Me need more explanation than that."

"We don't have all day, Deeks." Callen retorted as he gingerly smoothed the large Band-Aid over her knee. She squirmed. He gave her an apologetic look that she did not see. He had thought the action had hurt her; actually, it had done nothing to hurt her, but succeeded to make her uncomfortable with what the innocent action had created. "It would take that and more to explain it to you."

Nell went from looking at anything above her to leveling Callen with a not amused look. "Deeks, and Sam, and Kensi, and Eric, thank you for your concern, but it is really not necessary. I was being a klutz, not watching where I was going, and fell."

"Nell," Callen sternly chastised. "Tell them what you told me, quickly, no rambling." Nell glared at him, he smirked back, but his smirk faltered when she quirked an eyebrow and smirked back at him. He did not like the look she was giving him. He warned her not to say whatever it was that she was about to, but she did not listen. "Nell, don't."

"Fine," She sighed and twisted the incident from earlier into something dirty. She knew she should not, because he was her boss, her friend, and the comment, although true in the innocent form, was stepping over a boundary, into uncharted territory. He pissed her off by chastising her, and picking on Deeks, for wanting to know what happened to her. Her friend was concerned, and she did not want that friend belittled, because of her, regardless of whether it was in a joking form or not. "I won't tell them how the concrete hurt my knees while I looked up at you. How my wrist hurt from the awkward angle it found itself."

"Touche." Callen blinked, coughed, and stood before quickly packing the first aid kit with the unopened materials that he had not used. He had underestimated her, and would not do so lightly again.

Sam grinned and shook his head, knowing that Nell was messing with Callen, and indirectly the rest of them.

Kensi covered her mouth, mocked coughed and smiled as her eyes twinkled in amusement.

Eric grinned, shook his head, and blinked before turning around, walking toward the staircase to the Command Center.

Deeks screeched, pushed his chair back, and stood. "What? My Nell Bell?" He glowered at Callen, all of the sudden thirsty for blood. He had taken the comment to be sexual, and the way Callen had warned her with a simple don't, raised Deeks' ire. He was haunted by the abusive relationship between his parents; after all, wouldn't anyone, when at eleven years old one had to shoot his father to protect both his mother and himself? Deeks wanted no one, not even their boss to take advantage of the sweet girl who had been the first of the team truly to befriend him. She was the little sister that he never had. "She is a very delicate flower! You had no right picking from that innocent garden!" He paused when he noticed Eric walking up the stairs. "Hey, dude! A little help here. She's your partner!"

Unfazed by the taunt, Eric quirked an eyebrow, and retorted in a singsong voice. "I know something that you don't."

"Eric!" Nell squeaked afraid that he would reveal her secret admiration.

Eric paused on the stairs and looked down at the team.

Deeks realized that he had overreacted and took the comments out of context, took a deep breath, and looked at both Callen and Nell apologetically. Callen waved it off, forgiving him, not blaming him for wanting to protect Nell. Nell did not see the exchange as she had her eyes on Eric.

Eric shrugged and dropped a bomb. "Assistant Director Granger is here. He and Hetty are conferencing with FBI's BAU Section Chief and an Agent from White Collar about today's case."

Each of the team froze; whenever Granger was here, something awful happened.

"Damn it," Deeks retorted as he haphazardly fell into his chair.

"There goes my plan for having a good day." Kensi stated wistfully.

"It must be something big." Sam concluded.

"Elusive Serial killer/Embezzler who is targeting high ranked government officials, add in missing documents, and everything else; yep, as big as it's going to get." Eric replied. "But the FBI has found a link, a way to the killer, and they aren't equipped to catch him. Their caseload won't allow it so they're delegating it to us."

"Deep cover." Callen stated, in realization and almost in irritation. In his experience with the FBI, he had only come across two agents that he could be civil and cooperative with; Tobias Fornell and Aaron Hotchner.

Nell hung her head as she realized that the feeling of trepidation that she had felt when arriving had nothing to with her being knocked down, but everything to do with this upcoming case.

With this team, deep cover operations had the habit of forming permanent repercussions.

This case would be no different.


	2. Chapter Two

**This story is a semi-NCIS: Los Angeles crossover with Criminal Minds, JAG, and White Collar as characters and/or bits of a storyline from those shows are discussed, while others will make an appearance. John Doyle is an original character, any other character originated in one of the four aforementioned shows.**

**Chapter Two**

"You know, when everything went down with Hetty last year, I thought that I couldn't form a lower opinion of a Government official than I did of Vance." Deeks confessed. "But I've met criminals that I hold a higher opinion of than the one I have for Granger."

"He's a dick." Kensi retorted, remembering her interaction with him last fall.

"What do you got Eric?" Callen asked as he interjected to stall the Granger bashing session. He agreed with his team, yet he did not want to dwell on Granger more than he had to.

"We can't officially start our briefing until after the conference call." Eric answered as he cringed and scratched the back of his neck.

"Who said?" Callen demanded.

"Granger's orders." Eric stated apprehensive and more uncomfortable. He hated it when there was a power struggle between his superiors, and he very much wanted to listen to and assist Callen, but his hands were tied, completely.

"But he didn't order me." Nell retorted as she picked the Cisco Tablet from her lap and stood.

Callen smirked as he shot her an impressed look, "No, he didn't."

Sam and Kensi grinned while Deeks openly laughed as he joked, "Nell Bell, your first tardy came in handy."

Nell playfully rolled her eyes at Deeks before she smiled at and met eye contact with Callen, she stated. "Give me a moment to access the Main file."

"Good, let's go." Callen stated as he quickly grabbed a gentle hold of her elbow and directed her toward the stairs and up them. He made a shooing motion with his hand, and Eric ran up the rest of the stars as he shook his head. Following Nell and Callen up the stairs were Sam, then Kensi, and Deeks.

Nell took a seat at her computer station, logged in, and sped read what Eric had uploaded for her during her tardiness and parts of the main file. Callen stood behind her on her right side with his left hand on the back of the chair and his right hand on the desktop inches from the computer. Sam, Kensi, and Deeks stood directly behind her in the middle of the room, an appropriate amount away from her chair, glancing from Nell and Callen to the large screen.

Eric stood in the corner far away from the large touch screens and his computer station, while he placed his Cisco Tablet out of his reach, as if to prove to Granger that he did not disobey a direct order. His arms crossed against his chest and his right ankle crossed over the left, he looked relaxed, yet he was anything but. He worried what Granger would do or say to Nell. Granger hated it when there were loopholes found in his orders. Callen had become a pro at finding them, and Eric feared that Nell would soon become his apprentice, as she was now executing one of those loopholes. Eric's mouth formed a thin line as he watched Callen practically leaning over her.

Eric narrowed his eyes, as he believed that Callen had to know that she had a crush on him. Eric did not like the idea that Callen was using that admiration to his advantage, however small he may be doing, because he expected better than that from his best friends. Although, he shared the most common interests with Nell, the rest of the team were his best friends too. He and Callen, along with Sam then Kensi had been through much during their years as a team. Although, Deeks and Nell were newer, that did not mean he valued those friendships any less. He would do absolutely anything to protect his family, his friends. Even if it meant he had to face a fear that he did not know he had until he decided he had to do it. There was no perhaps, Eric knew he would be out of line during that conversation with Callen, but he felt it needed to be done.

"Okay," Nell declared as she grabbed her tablet, turned the chair to her left, and stood. She walked and paused to the right of the large touch screen. "Last night, early this morning, Captain Caitlin Pike was found dead in an alley. She was a,"

"Judge Advocate." Callen finished her sentence as he winced remembering his run in with her when she was a young Lieutenant. Sam shook his head at the role reversal. Eric rolled his eyes. Kensi and Deeks stared expectantly at either Nell or Callen to continue.

Nell pursed her lips and nodded wondered how he knew; the crime scene photo showed her dead in street clothes, not in uniform. "Yes, but not any Judge Advocate." She paused when she noticed Deeks look of confusion, "It's the military equivalent to an attorney."

Deeks shook his head in understanding before slightly dipping it. Although, there was a lot he still had to learn about NCIS and the military, he felt he should have known that, as he had been a civilian lawyer.

"Pike was essentially the right hand of the head of the Joint Legal Service Center Southwest." Nell stated as she touched the screen, and a photograph popped unto the screen.

"Rear Admiral Harmon Rabb Junior." Hetty stated as she came through the automatic double doors.

"Last I heard, he retired as a Captain and got married. That was when I was an active Seal." Sam stated as a look of confusion crossed his face.

"You are correct, Agent Hanna." Granger interjected a foot away from Hetty.

"He came out of retirement when his wife chose to retire in favor of starting a family." Hetty revealed. "Rabb replaced her in her position at the Joint Legal Service Center Southwest and eventually he was promoted from Captain to Rear Admiral."

"Major McKenzie retired?" Callen asked incredulously not believing that she had chosen anything over the Marine Corps.

"People change, G." Sam interjected as he quickly glanced at Callen then Nell back to Callen. If Callen had not had been paying attention, he would not have seen it. He glowered at Sam as Sam's lips tilted into a small smile. That smile fell when he heard a trace of panic in Hetty's voice. One did not hear that trace from Hetty often.

"Miss Jones!" Hetty exclaimed as her eyes landed on the ace bandage and minimal gauze around one palm. "My dear what happened to your hands?"

"I, uh," Nell stuttered and gingerly crossed her arms against her abdomen. She felt uncomfortable with all of the eyes on her. "Fell."

"Nell." Callen rebuked before he looked at Hetty then back to Nell. "You tell her or I will." He quirked an eyebrow as he paused to give her an opportunity to tell her. "Fine, have it your way," He looked at a visibly concerned Hetty. "Some jackass knocked her over in the parking lot.

"What? Who?" Hetty prompted as the rest of the team shared concerned looks as the answer to what had happened was finally been answered.

"Agent Callen that language is unnecessary." Granger reprimanded. He added unintentionally revealing something to Callen. "If Miss Jones had been on time and not lollygagging on her hand held computer thing, then perhaps the misfortunate accident would not have occurred."

Callen uncrossed his arms, narrowed his piercing blue eyes, and his head tilted slightly to the side. His mouth formed a stern line. "You were the one that knocked her down. I don't care who the hell you are, or who you think you are; you will apologize to her. If not, I'm sure Vance would love to hear how you injured an Intelligence Analyst, one of the best we have."

A look of hatred and superiority crossed Granger's face and as he was about to retort, he was prevented from doing so by Hetty.

"Owen," Hetty said quietly, yet her voice boomed throughout the command center, causing chills go down all of their spines. "If you were the one that unfortunately knocked Miss Jones down, then it would be in your best interests to apologize. Rest assured that although, Leon has authority over you, I can make your life, professionally and personally, so much worse. I was fighting wars before you were in your mother's womb."

Granger swallowed. "I apologize, Miss Jones."

"Apology accepted." She squeaked, highly uncomfortable with the spotlight upon her.

"Mr. Beale, correct me if I am wrong, but did you not receive an order not to give start an official briefing until after Agent Lange and myself finished our phone call?"

"I did." Eric answered as he held up his empty hands.

"Then who sanctioned this briefing?" Granger asked and as an afterthought added. "It must have been Agent Callen. It's always Agent Callen."

"I cannot control the fact that your orders are never clear or solid." Callen declared with a smirk. "Eric received the order and obeyed that order. Neither I or Nell received such an order."

"I find your ability to slip through loopholes maddening." Granger snarled.

"I find your presence maddening." Callen retorted.

"Gentlemen!" Hetty interjected as she physically got between them even though neither was close to the other. "This is not the time. We have several dead officials and only one solid lead in. Mr. Beale, as you are more acquainted with the case, as you've been working on it for the past several hours, please start the official briefing."

"As Nell said, Captain Pike was found dead last night, she was the right hand of the Rear Admiral Rabb. Both Rabb and Pike is, were, are legal consultants on a FBI task force focused on finding, capturing, interrogating, and prosecuting domestic terrorists. With that said, about a month ago when the case and hunt against John Doyle became cold, that task force requested the assistance of the FBI Behavioral Analyst Unit."

"I don't understand, why the BAU? Why us?" Kensi interjected.

"John Doyle is the brother of Ian Doyle." Granger answered. "SSA Aaron Hotchner's team along with an Interpol Agent took down Ian last May."

Hetty added. "The task force believes that John started going after US Government Officials to revenge his brother's death. His victims have been random mid-level or high-ranking officials and their significant others. The BAU believe that John is targeting couples who fit the May-December label."

"May-December?" Sam asked, as he did not understand how that had anything to do with a terrorist.

"Yes," Hetty answered. "Each couple has had a fifteen to thirty years difference in age. His youngest victim was nineteen who had recently wed a thirty-six year old Marine with access to classified documents."

"I'm sorry," Nell interjected. "But that isn't a May-December romance. That couple would more likely fit a May-October, possibly even the rarer used May-September label. May-December connotes a relationship where one party is in the spring/summer of their life, and the other in the winter, near the end. Whereas May-October-" Nell stopped as she felt every eye on her and glanced to see Callen looking at her curiously as if to figure her out. She swallowed then refused to look at anyone except for Hetty, whom had an alarming smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

"No, Miss Jones," Hetty said intrigued as to how or why her Analyst knew such a thing. "Go ahead explain to us what a May-October romance is."

"Um, well, uh, a May-October romance connotes a, um, the May is the same obviously," She rambled. She could feel both the piercing gaze and smirk that Callen sported. She paused not sure, whether she had the courage to continue.

Eric stepped in and saved his best friend from further embarrassment, because he knew why she was stumbling over something that was so simple to explain. He feared that several others knew, too. "October would be someone in their late thirties, to forties, possibly early fifties depending on their health."

Sam grinned as he retorted in the guise of trying to understand it better. "So a May-October romance, would be a twenty-something broad, and a forty something smartass."

"Broad? Really?" Kensi retorted. Deeks gently elbowed her in the ribs and made a subtle nod to a fidgeting Nell then a calm, neutral looking Callen. Kensi shut up as she realized what Deeks was telling her, and what Sam was referring.

"Do the BAU know why John is targeting this sort of relationship?" Callen asked directing the briefing away from the elephant in the room. He stared at Hetty expectantly.

Hetty answered. "The BAU theorize that John is targeting that label, because when his brother was in his forties, he was in a relationship with a woman named Lauren who was in her twenties. Also, they think that it has something to do with the fact that his mother was forced into such a relationship with a man thirty years her senior, when she was, but sixteen."

As Callen listened to Hetty, he felt someone watching him, which made him subtly, but quickly take survey of the room, and found it was Granger. Granger narrowed his eyes on the Senior Field Agent then shot a glance to the young Intelligence Analyst. His mouth slowly formed a smile, which looked out of place on his features.

Callen suddenly felt cold.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

As Granger kept an alternating eye upon Callen and Nell, then as to not direct suspicion to himself, occasionally the rest of the team, he stated. "Lauren Reynolds was an alias for former Interpol Operative, now FBI Agent Emily Prentiss. This morning, Prentiss was placed into the protective custody of two US Marshalls. If, when you need any insight from her, you will need to contact SSA Aaron Hotchner, though try not to need it."

"So that explains the BAU," Deeks drawled curious to know the answer to his following question. "But, a birdie told me that you two were talking to the White Collar Unit of the FBI, what they got to do with this John dude?"

"Who was this birdy?" Granger demanded, as he knew that the only one to know such a detail was the man he ordered not to officially start briefing anyone.

Eric's eyes widened then narrowed as Deeks had just ratted him out, as he, Eric, had earlier briefly and unofficially told them a detail of the case.

Deeks shrugged and pursed his lips in contemplation as he recognized the anger emanating from Eric. "You know, I don't think I know the name of that Angry Bird. Fern you got a clue? You're the one always playing that game…"

Kensi smiled showing her pearly white teeth in a condescending way. "Not a clue."

"Hetty Lange," Granger snarled as he was close to exploding; revealing himself and his true intentions. "I find your entire team to be insufferable and mutinous."

"They get the job done." Hetty retorted before she answered the question about the White Collar Unit. "Mr. Deeks, your question is valid, but all will be explained if all of these interruptions would stop. Mr. Beale, please continue onward with the _official_ briefing."

"Like I said," Eric began as he hid the smile he wanted to display at Hetty's emphasis on the word official. "The hunt for Doyle became cold, and the BAU got involved. The BAU traced Doyle here to Los Angeles where Doyle owns a partnership in a nightclub. Before Captain Pike, he had eight known victims, all fitting the description of the age-difference relationship, all four men were older while the four women substantially younger. He made his first mistake of underestimating the United States Government when he came here to LA and sought refuge in his club; he slipped up when he had Captain Pike murdered. As the task force compiled evidence against him for crimes against humanity and terrorism, Captain Pike created a legal case against him for tax fraud and embezzlement, which brings to our friends from the White Collar Unit."

"Agent Peter Burke and his partner Neal McCaffery," Granger began, but was prevented from continuing as Callen interrupted him.

"What? You're kidding me." Callen interjected in disbelief. "How in the hell did Neal become an FBI Agent?"

"That is of no consequence." Granger answered surly. He wanted away from the Office of Special Projects as soon as possible. He'd have to bribe Vance to reassigning him somewhere else. Anywhere, away from than Los Angeles, sounded more appealing right now. Well, he would request the transfer, after his plan was successfully executed. He hated G. Callen and if he had to suffer through his time with the OSP until he could bring the elusive agent down a few notches, he would.

"How do you know him, Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked concerned.

"If there ever was an equivalent of my skills as a Legend, in the world of thievery, conning, and fraud, he would be it, without a doubt." Callen stated without an ounce of arrogance lacing his tone. He was stating fact.

"So earlier." Eric said bringing the attention back to him and the screens. "I spoke to FBI Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia and she sent us surveillance feed placing Pike outside the club three nights ago, and in the main area but Garcia wasn't able to access any other surveillance cameras. However, I was able to access the one pointing to the main office, and found Pike entering it last night, but never coming out."

"How is that possible?" Kensi asked. "Obviously she came out of the office, because she was found dead in an alley."

"I recognize that club." Deeks stated as he walked closer to the screen where images popped up to support whatever Eric said.

"Of course, you do." Sam snorted as he figured Deeks knew where every bar, club, or anywhere to pick up a girl in Los Angeles, was located.

"No, seriously, guys." Deeks stated as he looked at Eric. "The reason why you and the FBI chick can't access the cameras, are because there aren't any."

"What?" Both Nell and Eric startled, exclaimed; they could not believe that a business in Los Angeles could have no surveillance. "How do you know?"

"Four years ago, I was undercover there as a bartender then monitor." Deeks revealed. "LAPD suspected that the club was a front for a drug cartel, but nothing was ever proven, because there wasn't drugs there. Hell, except for the front main area, alcohol wasn't served."

"What is a nightclub without alcohol?" Nell questioned.

"Sweetheart," Deeks drawled. "The Starship, is a front for a highly discreet and private fetish club, which specializes in a lot of things, but voyeurism being number one. It took me months to even get a strand of my hair out of the main area and into the dungeon."

"Dungeon?" Kensi retorted as her mind took her back to the case that had required her and Deeks to go undercover as a married couple while they tried to figure out who was a sleeper agent.

"Well," Deeks shrugged. "Not figuratively, but close."

"Mister Deeks is correct. This club is highly discreet and is known in high roller circles to be the place to socialize if one prefers what the club offers. We fear that John may target one of those high rollers and a lady friend, that could frequent there, even though what he would be doing goes against everything that the both the club and culture stand for."

"Safe, Sane, and Consensual." Deeks stated. "None of which would be upheld were he to target anyone there."

"The FBI has delegated primary jurisdiction to us," Granger stated, ignoring Deeks. "Although the original taskforce, the BAU, White Collar, and JAG will have full disclosure. Interpol will be briefed, as they need to know certain information."

"That is a lot of hands, eyes, and ears in the cookie jar." Nell quipped, oblivious to the undercurrent between Callen and Granger.

"The operation could be compromised if it isn't already." Callen declared as he agreed with her.

"Mr. Callen," Hetty countered. "The original taskforce have representatives from each of the entities that Owen stated. Rear Admiral Rabb from JAG, Agents Burke and McCaffery from White Collar, Agents Easter and Prentiss from Interpol, then SSA's Hotchner, Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Doctor Reid, and Technical Analyst Garcia from the BAU. All of whom are highly decorated and trustworthy, and yes Mr. Callen, even your friend McCaffery."

"I trust Neal more than several people." Callen retorted as he stared at Granger.

"Who _do_ you trust?" Granger retorted snidely as Callen's trust issues were known throughout the upper brass.

"Not you." Callen retorted.

"Mr. Callen!" Hetty exclaimed.

"He asked, I answered." Callen replied as he glared at Granger.

"Okay, okay," Sam stated as he shifted his weight and uncrossed one arm, placing the elbow in the palm of the hand of the crossed arm. He tapped his chin with his index finger in contemplation. "Doyle is a known terrorist whom runs under the radar, but we or anyone else have nothing concrete to nail him on."

"Yes, Mr. Hanna." Hetty confirmed the statement.

"He's allegedly in the name of his brother killed or orchestrated the death of nine people. This club is the only chance to get to him, right?"

"Possibly, yes." Hetty answered and then added. "There is, however another way to infiltrate Doyle's operation, but the first step would be the club."

"What is the other way, Hetty?" Callen asked.

"Doyle lives under an alias, in a highly secure gated community that has a house vacant and on the market." Hetty answered. "The house has a high turnover rate, as it is right next door to Doyle. Five years ago, the couple that lived there filed a report against him and his staff, for invading their privacy, a landscaper was arrested, and shortly thereafter, the couple were found dead in their front garden. The Medical Examiner stated that both had a heat stroke; however, it is believed that Doyle paid him off. A year later, the Medical Examiner was a victim of a mugging and killed. Since then, no couple or family has lasted more than three months."

"Why? Is it haunted?" Deeks asked cheekily, as the seriousness of this case penetrated his awareness.

"No, Mr. Deeks." Hetty answered, as she appreciated the comic relief that Deeks was often known for. This case, Hetty was afraid would need any and all of Deeks and anyone else sense of humor, as she feared that it would become dark, too dark, especially with what Owen would demand from her and her team. She did not agree with him and tried every which way she knew, but when someone pulled rank, there was nothing one could officially do. She was livid, and times such as this is when she regretted turning down Leon's countless offers of promotion to Assistant Director, before Owen was appointed such. "The couples or families have either, mysteriously vanished, killed in accidents, or found dead in what appear to be accidents, but I assure you that they were anything but."

"Two of us will move into that house and start to frequent, The Starship?" Deeks asked for clarification.

"Yes, among other questionable things that will become privy at a later date." Hetty answered.

"So who's it gonna be?" Sam asked curious and anxious to get the case started, as he wanted it over as soon as possible. He did not like the feeling he got about it. "Will it be me or G going undercover with Kensi?"

"Hey!" Deeks retorted, affronted that he was not in consideration as he and Kensi had become professional at going undercover as a couple. He thought it would make perfect sense for them to continue to do so for this case. "Kensi is my partner!"

"No, Sam's right." Kensi said as she looked at Deeks apologetically. "We wouldn't fit the profile that Doyle is targeting. We look about the same age, and if not, you look younger than what you are."

"Agent Blye is correct Detective Deeks," Granger interjected as the smile on his face slowly formed into a smirk as he continued. "Which is why it will not be either you, Agent Hanna or Agent Callen going undercover with Agent Blye."

"Then who will be?" Kensi asked concerned and a tad scared that Granger would answer himself.

Hetty interjected. "Miss Blye, you are not a part of the starting equation. As young and beautiful as you are, you do not fit the role that is required. The BAU believe that the younger the woman is or looks, the more likely, that John will target the couple. Each couple targeted, the woman became younger and younger. NCIS," Hetty paused, as she strongly believed that it was not NCIS, but that of Granger's opinion. "Believe that an eighteen-year-old woman would be the best candidate for this undercover operation."

"Unless there is a special consideration, you have to be twenty-three to be an NCIS Agent." Eric retorted, not understanding the logic of an eighteen-year-old, being involved with an op when they could not apply to become an Agent.

Livid, Callen immediately understood what had caused both the apprehension that he had felt earlier and the transforming all-knowing looks, Granger had been tossing him and Nell. He growled, making Nell and Eric jump at the ferocity in his tone. "Find another option."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Callen." Hetty apologized as she dipped her head in remorse. "I tried to find another, but there is none."

"Absolutely not, Hetty." Callen retorted angry, almost panicked. "Anyone, but her. Find someone in another agency. Hell, have the FBI promote someone from Quantico!"

Granger smugly smiled as he interjected. "Agent Callen, there will be no such search or promotion. We have the perfect candidate here in NCIS to go undercover with you." He paused as he glanced at each of the team, before his eyes leveled upon the young Intelligence Analyst. "Miss Jones, how old are you?"

At the question, each person realized what Callen had realized, and what Granger wanted; what he meant by the perfect candidate. Each person had varying degrees of disbelief, anger, and worry. Eric slammed his Cisco Tablet down unto the nearest flat surface; closed his eyes, crossed his arms, breathed deeply, as his jaw clenched. He had always hated Assistant Director Owen Granger, but now the man had become number one of Eric's list of targets. He would find something, anything on, Granger and he would make the older man pay for what he was and would subject Nell.

Nell stood immobilized as she stared at Callen for reassurance that this was some sort of joke, some ill-fated prank. She swallowed as she silently agreed with one of Deeks' earlier assessments, that it must be April Fool's.

"Miss Jones?" Granger prompted.

Nell did not answer as she was still in shock.

"She is twenty-two," Callen barked. "Four years older than what is required of this op."

"She will do, Agent Callen." Granger stated as he enjoyed the look of fear in the young woman's eyes and body language as much as he enjoyed the anger and hate emanating from the Senior Field Agent.

Granger's plan had not yet exited the gate, but he was already satisfied with its development.

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**Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favorites, and reviews. **


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"The hell she will." Callen retorted and then added without thought of how Nell would perceive it. "No one is going to believe that she and I are together, let alone are married."

Nell visibly flinched which made both Eric and Kensi glare at Callen. Deeks, too glared, but he also took three steps to his right, which effectively placed himself behind Nell, and placed his hands upon Nell's shoulders as if to comfort her. The thought of 'way to be subtle, G,' crossed Sam's mind, as he made a whistling motion with his lips yet no sound came forth. Hetty arched an eyebrow as if to contradict that statement, but thought it not the moment to do so verbally. For a moment, Granger thought that the plan would not work, before he realized that Callen was working them.

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked as she made a mental note to speak to them both privately before they went out into the field.

Callen took a deep breath and said through his teeth. "Nell is not trained for what this mission will require. She is an Intelligence Analyst. One of, if not the best, but out in the field she will be out of her element. She is not a field agent and I will not have the time to train her to be such."

"Agent Callen," Granger countered. "This temper tantrum will not change the fact that you and Miss Jones will be the ones initiating contact with John Doyle and his organization. Calm down so we can go forward with the briefing."

"No." Callen snarled, as his blue eyes became slits and his mouth a harsh line, his jaw clenched and unclenched. He was in hostile interrogation mode. "You want to put a girl who's only undercover field experience has been a field trip compared to what this case is going to require of her. We could be in nonstop deep cover, working this case for months." He looked at Hetty, as if what he had said would change her mind, reconsider Nell's role in the op. When he realized that it had not, he continued to glower at her, a look that was a mixture of anger and pleading. "Has it not registered in either of your minds that you're sending an inexperienced girl without any field experience, undercover in a case that statistically concludes is a suicide mission?" He paused, as he considered his next wording, as he did not want to continue to offend Nell, but the truth sometimes hurt, and if his next statement did not make Hetty budge on this, then nothing would. "You realize that this case may at some point require her to be in both compromising and dangerous positions?"

"I have faith that you will take care of her." Hetty stated. She realized what he meant by compromising and her swallow of discomfort was subtle, but Callen had seen it.

"Damn it, Hetty!" Callen exclaimed. "I rarely ever question you, and never have I actually meant that doubt, but this crosses a line, several lines. Nell isn't prepared for this."

"I disagree, Mister Callen," Hetty retorted. "I think that it is you, who is not prepared."

"You're damn straight." Callen responded in disbelief, bordering on panic. "I am _not_ prepared. Any man who is prepared to possibly rape someone needs to be…"

"Rape?" Nell squeaked as an interruption. She was shocked to the core. She was confused and scared about the upcoming Op. "What, what is going to be required of me?"

No one, not even Granger, would answer her question. The silence was awkward and disheartening; it was broken by the beeping of a cell phone, the sound originating from Granger's phone on his belt; he unclipped it and looked at the display. He reluctantly excused himself and left. Callen stared at the double automatic doors long after Granger had left.

Deeks cleared his throat as he gently patted Nell's shoulders in comfort. "Nell, this John dude is a dangerous man; I met him once, well his alias, when I worked at the club, and he gave me the creeps, he's a force to be reckoned with." He paused. "What Callen meant is that Doyle is a voyeur, which is why his club specializes in voyeurism. According to what Hetty said about his neighbors, he and/or his house staff are Peeping Toms. It wouldn't be a far stretch to assume that in order to gain his trust or attention; you and Callen would have to…"

"Be intimate." Kensi interjected quietly, in the attempt of saving both her partner and Nell from further embarrassment.

Deeks could not leave well enough alone, he had to elaborate on Kensi's comment. "Nell Bell, The Starship, it can get a bit kinky, depending on things, and the night."

Nell's mouth dropped to form a perfect 'O' in understanding. She braved a glance toward Callen, who looked as uncomfortable as she felt, refusing to look her way, looking at the exit instead. Eric closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent him from commenting and lashing out. Hetty, whom was not one for fidgeting, fidgeted.

"Miss Jones," Hetty said her tone of voice desolate. "What is being asked of you is quite unexpected and sensitive in origin. I understand if you would rather not participate, as it may be at the least, uncomfortable, but I have faith that you will excel in this undercover work as you have all previous times, however limited those were. At this time, you are our only hope. Mr. Callen will keep you safe from any sort of harm."

"This isn't a matter of being afraid of uncomfortable," Nell admitted, halfway lying. "Well a part of it is, but I am more worried that I will not be able to pull it off."

"What are your reservations, dear?" Hetty asked.

"As you all are aware," Nell stated as she wrung her hands together, mindful of her hurt wrist. "I have serious control issues. If something doesn't go as planned, I freak out."

"Really?" Callen sarcastically asked. "I hadn't ever noticed."

"Mr. Callen." Hetty reproved.

"No, Hetty," Callen stated, as he realized that if Nell and he could not get on the same page, Hetty would not send them on this assignment, as their uncooperativeness would get them both killed. "She's right; I have to agree with her. She can hardly be submissive in her desk job, let alone a highly secretive and dangerous deep Op that depends on what she can do and handle, and what she can't."

"Mr. Callen." Hetty once again reproved. "I am on to you. No matter how uncooperative you are here, I know you would never put Miss Jones or yourself in a situation that would get either of you killed. You two will get on the same page, as not only this mission, but your lives will depend on how you two act and react."

Callen bit his tongue and hung his head in disbelief. No matter what he did or say would prevent the Op from happening, but he would insure that he would control how much damage, emotionally and physically, would happen to the young woman who's life he would hold in his hands.

"Hetty, he's right." Nell stated quietly. "As much as I respect authority, I am just as insubordinate." She continued onward as she rambled and revealed more than she had wished. "I'd constantly be trying to top from bottom. Our marriage would be highly unrealistic which will make it unbelievable, which will put everyone in danger, get us killed. He said it best, no one will believe that we're together."

In that moment, he realized why she was being so apprehensive, so fearful. It had nothing to do with her control issues, but everything to do with trust and doubt. She doubted they could convince anyone that they were a couple, although he had stated it first, it irked him that she believed it. Her doubt in the possibility of them, for the moment dowsed whatever attraction or hope came from that attraction he held for her. Most of all, it pissed him off that she did not trust him to keep her safe, alive. He quickly surveyed the room, and for the first time realized that Deeks had his hands on Nell's shoulders gently squeezing and patting them.

"Deeks," Callen barked making the Detective jump, which made him remove his hands from Nell. Callen swallowed, and transformed the barking tone of voice, to a neutral authoritative one. He had not meant to bark, but seeing Deeks touching Nell had set him off; Callen refused to acknowledge the reason why. "Get an invite to Friday's scene."

"Invite?" Deeks asked confused. "My alias was a Monitor, not a participant, never a participant."

Callen ignored Deek's protests, because he knew the protest would stop after what he told Kensi. ""Kensi; go to wardrobe, and get fitted for attire appropriate for a high end scene, you two will scope all of the club out, before Nell goes anywhere near it."

"Hot damn, Sugar Bear," Deeks retorted, injecting comic relief into the situation. "We're going _undercover_,too."

"Deeks." Kensi rolled her eyes at his innuendo.

"Marty." Hetty censured.

"Uh, hi, Hetty," Uncomfortable, Deeks said. "I didn't realize you were still there."

"I am aware." Hetty retorted with a hint of a smile at the end of her lips.

"Sam," Callen demanded, "Infiltrate the clubs security, there's got to be a bouncer position open, if not bartend, wait staff, something." Sam nodded. Callen looked at the Liaison Officer and asked. "Deeks, if they ask you to be a monitor again, offer Sam up as a replacement."

"Will do." Deeks agreed.

"Eric," Callen commanded, "Start backstopping everyone's aliases, and reinforce Deeks' for the past four years and beyond. I don't trust LAPD's track record. Have them done in an hour."

"Already on it." Eric stated as he had started Callen's earlier, but would have to redo Kensi's as he had believed her to be the one to be Callen's partner, and Deeks as he had not known the Detective had connections to the club. Everyone else he would have to start from scratch.

"Nell," Callen faltered as he considered where the best place would be for what he had in mind for her, before he ordered. "Boat shed now!"

She quickly nodded and left the Command Center. As soon as Callen left, following closely behind her, Hetty glanced around at the rest of her team. Each had perplexed looks with varying degrees of concerns, curiosity, and panic. She exhaled a deep breath before her gaze settled on her Tech Operator. Although, what she was about to request for him to do, could be considered an invasion of privacy of her Agents, she requested anyway. One forfeited their right to privacy during an Undercover Operation, even more so, when that operation had sexual connotations. "Mr. Beale, bring up the boat shed surveillance."

Eric swallowed, his eyebrows raised in question, and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in fear of both what the surveillance feed would find, and what would happen if he disobeyed Hetty's order; however she requested it, Eric knew it was an order. Hesitantly, he brought up the feed and they waited five minutes before the pair arrived. Eric located and followed both his best friend and Senior Agent In Charge; he, they, watched his eyes bulged in shock, the others in surprise.

As they watched, Deeks stated more in seriousness than comic relief. "Hot damn, they're sure as hell convincing me that they _are_ a couple, no _could_ be right there." He paused and added jokingly. "How old is Callen? 'Cause I think I could age a few years to go on assignment with her. Who knew Nell was such a firecracker?"

Sam smacked the back of Deeks head as Eric glowered at both the screen and Deeks.

"Hey!" Deeks exclaimed rubbing the back of his head. "I was joking." He reconsidered what he said and added, "Well, not the part about how old he is or Nell being a firecracker." Kensi stepped on his foot and elbowed him in his ribs. Deeks continued onward. "In high school and college, I should have paid more attention to the nerds."

Eric threw a pen at Deeks, which hit him squarely on the forehead.

"Hey, that hurt! I love nerds." Deeks retorted, looking apologetic towards Eric. "You and Nell are my favorite."

Eric took a step toward Deeks, but before he could say or do anything, both Kensi and Sam took a hold of one of Deeks' arms, and forcefully pulled him across then out of the Command Center.

"Mr. Beale, when, ahem," Hetty coughed. "Miss Jones returns, please direct her to my office."

Eric tipped his head toward the screen. "It might be a while."

"Understood," Hetty replied as she averted her eyes from the surveillance feed and left. Once outside the doors, a small smile formed across her lips. Her dream for her dear Mr. Callen was slowly start to form. She hoped that dream would remain intact after the mission was over.

Meanwhile, back in the Command Center, Eric quickly closed the surveillance feed, as he had no desire to watch, he would leave that to John Doyle, in the near future. As he slid a hand over his face, in the attempt to get him to refocus, the thought of him having a chat with Callen was coming more of a when than an if.

He had faith that Callen would not kill or hurt him, but just in case, Eric would make sure that there were witnesses nearby to see the exchange, not necessarily hear it.

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**Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favorites, reviews, and constructive criticism. I hope that you enjoyed reading, what was your favorite part?**


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Nell Jones was scared. She was scared that she would compromise the mission, and above all else, she was scared that her inadequacy would kill her friends, her family, her Callen, herself…wait, she paused and stopped walking across the way to the boat shed. Callen was not hers, she berated herself for becoming possessive of something that was not hers; someone she thought would never be hers. She flinched and inaudibly gasped as she felt a burning sensation on the small of her back.

"Let's go, move it." Callen muttered as he steered her into action with one hand and the other sending a quick text message before he placed his cellphone back in its holster on his hip.

She started walking briskly in the attempt to get away from him, get away from the touch of his hand gently on the small of her back. Her attempts failed as he matched whatever speed she tried. She sucked her upper lip in her mouth, nibbled upon it as she steeled her resolve. She would not act like the inexperienced girl that he had accused her of being when he had been speaking to Hetty. Of course, he had meant inexperienced in the field, but her swooning at a gentle touch would give her crush away. She did not need any more ammunition against her as she already felt mortified by what had occurred after she had fell, and more so during the briefing. Her skin crawled as she remembered parts of it.

She pursed her lips, slowly bringing her upper lip out of her mouth. Oblivious to Callen watching her from the corner of his eye, she missed the look of lust that crossed his face as she nibbled on her upper lip, and as she released it. Her thoughts were on the what-ifs and what-could-happen. She would never forgive herself, if something that she did, or something that she could have prevented, happened to her family, her friends, or anyone else, for that matter. She had chosen to use her analytical skills and high intelligence in law enforcement, because she had wanted to help protect and save people, she was not an action sort of girl, she preferred behind the scenes; she helped the people who saved people. She was okay with being the girl behind the curtain. She was not okay with an entire mission relying upon her. Of course, frequently, a case's Intel was her responsibility, and Intel was a major part of a case, but the Intel happened behind the scenes, as she preferred, and not out in the field, the spotlight.

She was going from backstage to center stage in a blink of an eye. She was terrified that she was going to do something wrong. She was embarrassed that she was paired with Callen; a man, who she highly respected, admired thoroughly, and if she were honest, a man who she was completely attracted to, and a little bit in love with. When it came down to their acting as a couple, being intimate for show, she feared she was going to embarrass them both, she just knew she would. He had been adamant about them not being believable, which she mistook as horror that it was expected of him to 'pretend' that he was with her. She feared she would overact or come on too strong, which would reveal what she would prefer hidden. Guys like G. Callen did not go for girls like her; she had learned her lesson in College and had no desire to relearn.

When she entered, the boat shed, she was relieved that someone was there to bear witness to whatever Callen decided to say or do. Perhaps if there was a witness, he would be more generous of her feelings, but then again had there not been witnesses in the Command Center? The entire team had been there. That twenty minutes had been one of the most embarrassing she had ever encountered.

Agent Mike Renko greeted them with a nod of his head and a wave of his hand while he reclined on the sofa as he perused a paper file. "Callen. Nell."

"Hi, Mike!" Nell stated exuberantly and entirely too cheerful. Callen recognized what she was doing; trying to get away from him. She was skittish. Before Callen could stop her, she half ran and half skipped toward an unsuspecting Renko whom realized something was not right with the Intelligence Analyst.

He stood just before she made it to the couch. She tackled him with a hug, clinging onto him for dear life, as if this would be the last time she would see him, as if he was some sort of lifeline. He loosely hugged her back, as he was afraid of what Callen would do if he touched her for too long. The glare Mike received from Callen would have been amusing if it had not been directed at him. G. Callen was pissed, annoyed, and most surprising jealous. Mike smiled at the irony as he remembered his time with the team when he was a rookie agent, when Callen had been his training agent. Whenever the team went on outings, the women were always attracted to Callen, who mostly did not give them a second look.

Nell continued to ramble onward, bringing Mike out of the nostalgia of a time long since gone, "I'm so glad that you are here, uh," She faltered, "I mean you're back from your Op. It's so good to see you. I missed you around the office. Glad to see you! You're back! I missed you."

Mike looked over her head to Callen. Mike arched his eyebrow and glanced downward to the top of Nell's head, whose cheek was pressed against his chest. He gave Callen 'Is she for real?' look. Now he understood why Callen had texted him to let him know that he would need the boat shed. The hustle and bustle of the OSP would further distract her. Callen shook his head in disbelief as he took ahold of her waist, strongly pulling her away from Mike, toward then down the hall, and into an interrogation room.

She yelped in surprise as he released her. She could not believe it; however gentle as it was, he had manhandled her. He slammed the door closed behind him. He stood in front of the door to prevent her from escaping, as if she had a chance.

"Callen…" Nell started to speak, but thought better of it, worried that she was the cause of the anger in his eyes and body language. She did not understand why he had ordered her here to the boat shed, when all he did was staring at her with his arms crossed barring the only exit. He could have done this at the command center, she'd prefer if he had, because there would be a witness, an ally in Eric. She trusted Callen, knew that he would not hurt her, but she also knew that sometimes he had a short temper, and snapped. She did not want to be the first woman who was not a suspect he did so on.

He stared at her as he struggled for control over his emotions. This was a bad idea. The Op would be compromised before it had even begun. If he could not think straight now, there was no way in hell he'd be able to in the field. They had to come to an understanding about the mission, because there was not any way around it. If they had to stay in this room for the entire day, he would ensure that it happened.

"Callen, please say something." She fidgeted. He did not reply, but watched her as she paced around the table and wrung her hands. She hissed when she placed her hurt wrist in an angle that hurt. He sighed, took a step forward, and she froze.

"Stop it." He ordered as he had enough of her terror of him. He was not a monster. He would not hurt her.

"Stop what?" She squeaked.

"Being afraid." He answered as he continued to walk towards her.

"I think I have a right to be afraid." She retorted as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Not of me." He replied as he stopped in front of her, entering her personal space, leaving two inches between them. He caressed her jawline and her breathing sped up, her heart skipped a beat, her mouth slightly fell open. "Never of me."

"Callen?" She whispered, swallowed, and then looked into his piercing blue eyes as she searched for an answer to a question that she did not know she could ask. The heat of his gaze floored her. She mistook the heat for anger and took a step back. He grabbed ahold of her unharmed wrist and pulled her against him. "Callen, what? No..." She was having déjà vu, this reminded her of something that happened when she was in college, and she would not let him humiliate her as she had been a few years ago, by a different man. "You're angry at me, please don't do this. You don't have to prove a point." She shuddered as he settled his hands upon her hips before slowly sliding them up her torso back down to her hips then repeated the actions. She had to get ahold of this situation, take control of it. "I get it. If you remember, I agreed with your assessment. No one is going to believe," She gasped as she felt the promise of his thumbs just below the undersides of her breasts. She bit her lip as he trailed his fingers down her abdomen around to her back. Her breath hitched as he teasingly trailed his fingers against the line of the zipper of her dress. "Callen, no one's going to believe that you'd go for a nerd, girl like me, you don't have to prove it. I wouldn't…"

At first, the feel of his lips against hers was startling, as she had not expected him truly to go that far to prove his point; that they were incompatible. The truth hit her as sparks of anticipation and pleasure shot over her nerve endings; however, unlikely their compatibility of a long-term relationship as the mission would masquerade; they were compatible with this, the kissing, and the physical part of their supposed relationship. There had been no doubt in her mind before this toe curling kiss, but the kiss verified what she already knew; that she was hopelessly attracted to him. As she mistakenly believed, he kissed her to prove their incompatibility; she sought out to prove to him that they were physically compatible. She may regret her forthcoming actions, but she would regret it more if she let this moment pass without trying. It hurt to know, to hear that he would never see her as she wanted him to see her, but if she could have a few stolen moments; nights with him, then that would have to be enough even if it were under the guise of an alias. She would have her memories and her regrets, but she would not have the daunting what-ifs.

She placed her hands on either side of his neck and tugged him down, mindful of her hurt wrist, further to her level. Although in three-inch heels, she was still four inches shorter than he was. She deepened the kiss, bringing his bottom lip between hers, rolling, and nibbling it. He groaned and placed his left hand on the right side of her face, threading the tips of his fingers through her hair. He trailed his right hand down her back to the small of it. He brought her flush against him. She moaned as he closed his lips around her upper lip and suckled. They tortured the other with nips and grazes of teeth. When she slid her hands from either side of his neck to his face, she tried again to pull him downward, she gasped and giggled as she felt him pick her up and sat her on the table. Closer now, without her having to straining upward, and him leaning downward, they freely kissed the other without any obstruction.

He deepened the kiss, bringing his other hand to the other side of her face, threading the tips of those fingers in her hair as the other one had. He gently cradled her face in his hands, but just as tenderly as the hold on her face, he kissed her hard, fusing their mouths closer together in the age-old rhythm of catch and release. Teeth grinded against teeth as lips fought the other for dominance. What was meant be a way to prove to the other that it could work between them…in the mission, quickly had turned into a heated, desperate power struggle that neither wanted to forfeit. Shaky breaths and moans met each movement, each power play. She scooted closer to the edge of the table, bringing him in between her knees, her inner thighs resting against his outer ones. She hooked her ankles around his legs bringing him as close to her as she could in the position that they were in. Her dress had ridden slightly up her hips, but still it covered her secrets, yet revealing two or so inches of pale skin above her Band-Aid® clad knees. Tongues slid across and around the other, searching, probing for pleasure, for power. Unbeknownst to them, they had an audience through the surveillance feed that she had forgotten and he had not cared about. Their audience was shocked, and one that was utterly distressed to the point of embarrassing himself and the others.

Her head was swimming in her lust for him. Never in her most secret dreams had she dreamed of this, the reality of it, effectively blowing away any dream that her subconscious had created, forgotten, or held in a place in her psyche, called denial. She groaned in protest when he pulled his lips away from hers. She mewled in pleasure as his lips found her jawline before he trailed open mouth kisses down the column of her neck. He paid extra attention to both her collarbone and her pulse point, as she made the most delicious sounds deep within her throat as he kissed, suckled, and nipped the once pale, now pink, almost reddening skin. Surely as his eyes were blue, she would have bite marks, and the beginning of a stubble burn, but he did not care. He was marking her as his…he abruptly pulled away as that thought crossed his mind. This had not been his intention, his complete intention when he had ordered her here. He had wanted them to talk, for him to ease any fears that she had, and he had known that it would lead to a kiss or two to prove to her that he hadn't meant what he had said, but those kisses he had planned was nothing like what had happened. He needed space to think. He needed time to process the fact that she wanted him. When someone thought that they could not have something, had settled for not having it, only to eventually, out of nowhere, get that something, it was an adjustment that could not within a few minutes, be attuned with reality.

Both stunned at the amount of power and passion behind their exchange, neither spoke as they struggled to regain control of their breathing. He placed his forehead upon hers, his nose nuzzled hers, and he promised quietly as he held eye contact, "I'll take care of you, Nell. I'll keep you safe."

"I know." She whispered as she quickly and uncertainly pecked him on the lips. He caressed her jaw before pulling away and kissing her on the cheek. She closed her eyes and successfully fought the tears that threatened to fall. She was still hurt from his earlier comments and was now confused at his mixed signals. She now knew that he was attracted to her, but his actions now revoked his actions from moments ago.

Both had realized to different degrees, that they had forgotten the original purpose of their first kiss halfway through the second. No matter how close the mission, their aliases would come to what they wanted in their lives as G. Callen and Nell Jones, they knew to varying degrees that whatever was occurring between them, physical or more, had to wait until after the mission.

However, out of instinct the lines of reality will blur.

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**Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favorites, reviews, and constructive criticism.**


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

G. Callen sat at his desk, propped his feet upon the desk, and tilted the chair back as he leaned back. He stared at the high cathedral like ceiling and ran a hand down his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose. He had left the boat shed, ten minutes ago, five minutes after Nell had. He felt no better about the Op, about Nell's capability as a field agent than he had before the trip to the boat shed, actually he felt worse. He had muddled his original plan of isolating Nell from the others so that they could talk about what would be expected of them, of her. He needed to know before they started the Op that she could handle the basic of threats, but all they had proven was that they did not need to worry about how realistic the pair of them is, because for the briefest of moments, he had believed that they could be together. He shook his head and applied more pressure to the bridge of his nose. He needed to focus. He needed to unwind. He needed to hit something.

He looked around for Sam to persuade him to spar with him, but could not locate him. He smiled when his eyes landed on Deeks who stood with his hands in his pockets just outside of the wardrobe area trying to peek at what the wardrobe coordinator had handed Kensi.

"Deeks!" Callen roared as he stood from his chair then walked toward Deeks.

Deeks jumped looking around for Callen. His eyes were wide and his mouth slotted open just so, a piece of purple gum peeking through from in between his front teeth. The murderous look upon Callen's face scared him. He said with his tone of voice varying decibels, because of that fear. "Hey man, I was just joking. You know me, joke joke joke! Ha. Ha. Ha. I didn't mean what I said whatsoever, man! I promise! Pinky promise if I have to!"

Callen looked at him confused, "What are you talking about?"

Deeks exhaled a long breath in relief that Callen did not know about the comments that he had made about Nell. Deeks answered the question when Callen's confused look changed to prompting, 'answer me now.' "Oh, you know me, always joking when I shouldn't." Callen gave him a 'get to the point' look. "I said a few jokes that went too far. I guess I'm lucky that Kensi didn't rat me out."

Sometimes, a veiled truth was the best answer.

Satisfied with the answer, Callen asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Ops." Deeks answered, relieved that Callen bought it. "Something about his backstory."

"Okay." Callen said and then trailed a look from Deeks' eyes to his feet back to his eyes. Deeks did not like that look. He swallowed. Callen continued, "You feel like sparring?"

Deeks almost choked on his gum, as there would be no way he was ever going to knowingly spar with Callen when he was pissed. A calm Callen was almost deadly; an angry Callen would mean a trip to medical for whoever sparred with him, or a possibly a first with a visit to OSP from Medical Examiner Rose Shwartz. Deeks did not like his chances, so he once again used a veiled truth. "Maybe some other time, Kensi's almost done with wardrobe, after we're going to, The Starship, to snag an invite."

Callen nodded. "Let me know what you two come up with."

"Will do." Deeks responded. He watched Callen walk away and toward the staircase that would lead him to Ops. Deeks hoped that Callen would never find out about those ill-spoken comments. He took a glance toward Hetty's office, mostly obscured from where he stood, however he saw Nell sitting in front of Hetty's desk. Deeks bit his lip and looked away ashamed. Nell was one of his best friends, actually the first he had made at NCIS, which said something as he was here six months before she. She did not deserve his comments. He hoped that Eric would forgive him. Above all, he wanted Nell to never find out, more so than he would prefer Callen never to know. Callen would justly kick his ass, but Nell, he never wanted to hurt, not because she could hurt him places that Callen or even Eric did not know, but because he valued her friendship, and he feared that Callen would hurt her more than enough, after all he had during the briefing. Marty Deeks decided right there to man up and confront Callen before Nell officially started the deep cover assignment.

Meanwhile in Ops, Eric had spent the past five minutes going over Sam's backstory. He would be thirty-seven year old, Shawn Samuels, a former Navy Petty Officer dishonorably discharged in 2003 for assaulting two men in his Unit.

"Why dishonorably discharged?" Sam asked, unimpressed.

"Because," Eric replied readily as he knew that Sam would have an issue with that detail. "If all goes well, you'll be a monitor. The reason why you attacked the two men, one an officer, was that they were manhandling an Iraqi woman. It'll get you brownie points with the club; protecting a woman at cost to you."

"Okay," Sam conceded and summarized what Eric had previously told him about Shawn. "No family comes from a broken home. Odd jobs, never staying in the same place long, bartends, bounces, and security, freelance when the price is right. Engaged to the sister of Deeks alias," Sam trailed off, as Eric had not told him the name.

"Eddie Brandt," Eric replied. "His older sister's name was Georgetta "Georgie" Brandt. She was killed in a robbery in 2002."

"You come up with that name and story?" Sam retorted.

"Nope," Eric answered. "It's in his documented alias file. This is why whenever one of you comes back from a case; you have to report everything, every detail that you told anyone as the alias. Whatever is in your reports, me or Nell, log in the database."

Sam questioned, "Deeks wasn't NCIS then. How do you two have it?"

"When Hetty brought Deeks," Eric twitched his nose and mouth at the Detective's name, "On board, he and I were required to back log every alias he had ever used with LAPD. Let me tell you, he has a great memory even though lately he has loose lips."

Sam caught on to what Eric was referring. "Eric, the kid didn't mean what he said."

"It's okay." Eric said firmly as he typed information into Kensi'.

"No, it's not." Sam replied disbelieving. "You're pissed. You're not normally an angry person and when you are it's obvious."

"Seriously, Sam, I'm not mad at Deeks," Eric stated. Sam gave him a pointed look. "Well," Eric added reluctantly. "I'm mad at what he said about Nell, but mostly I'm mad at Granger. I'm disappointed that Hetty hands are tied. I'm afraid for Nell."

"Me too, buddy." Sam agreed as he patted and squeezed Eric's shoulder. As soon as he heard Callen, he felt Eric tense, which Sam found interesting.

"What do you got, Eric?" Callen asked as he entered the Ops Command Center.

"Sam's backstory is complete." Eric answered, his tone of voice strained. "Deeks' reinforced. Just started Kensi's. We're going with your Mr. Carl alias."

"And Nell's?" Callen asked.

Eric ripped the electronic earpiece off his ear and slammed it onto the desk beside his keyboard. Sam tightened his grip on Eric's shoulder, both in comfort and warning.

"Do we have a problem?" Called asked, his body language defensive, his voice of tone harsh, and intimidating.

Sam shot Callen a warning look that Callen ignored.

"Eric?" Callen asked with the same tone as before.

Eric took a deep breath, crossed his arms, touched his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and went to stand, but was prevented from doing so with the gentle pressure that Sam placed upon his shoulder. Eric gritted his teeth, unhappy that Sam was playing mediator, but a little grateful, because he knew he would not be able to defend himself against Callen, if this altercation became physical. Sam would prevent it from getting that far, if it were to go that direction. Eric hoped not, but mentally prepared himself for the possibility. He answered firmly, successfully disguising any fear he had and managing to shock both Sam and Callen. "Yes, we could, possibly."

"Is this about Nell?" Callen asked with the same tone as before, with a touch of disbelief added this time.

"G!" Sam exclaimed in warning.

Callen ignored Sam. "What else could be our possible problem?"

"I don't like this case." Eric stated as he continued to grit his teeth.

"Eric," Called sighed, letting go the harshness and intimidation from his tone. "I am just as angry over this case as you are, if not more."

"It's not just the case." Eric admitted. "I don't like Nell going undercover with you, the way she's going undercover."

Sam and Callen shared a look; Sam pointed and warning, Callen in horrified realization. Sam sat in Nell's chair, beside Eric, still a gentle hold on Eric's shoulder. Callen crossed his arms, bit his tongue, and looked at the ceiling before zeroing in on the back of Eric's head.

Sam asked the question that Callen did not want to know the answer to, but had to for the purposes of not only the case, but also how he would proceed with his actions, his intentions toward Nell. "Eric, are you and Nell?" Sam cringed while he paused, as he remembered what they had watched, what Eric had watched, what Callen did not realize that they had all watched. His tone of voice cracked a decibel when he said the middle of the following word. "Together?"

"No!" Eric exclaimed, surprised that Sam had to ask, after what they had watched. Nell was not the sort of girl to be in a relationship with someone, and do what she did with Callen in the boatshed. Eric would never see that interrogation room the same again. "Nell and I aren't together. She's my best friend."

"Were you together?" Callen asked his voice gruff.

"No." Eric denied adamantly.

"But you wanted more," Sam accused.

"Look guys," Eric took a deep breath. "Did I have a crush on her, when she first started," He paused. "Well, after I got past her whistle stealing and interrupting self?" Eric asked, Sam smiled at Eric's description of early Nell. Callen clenched his jaw not wanting confirmation, but needing it. "Sure, I did. Did anything come of it?" He asked. "No, it did not." He paused again as if to consider whether he should say what he wanted to. He did not want to betray Nell's trust, but he felt as if Callen should know. If any other reason, than the fact if Eric told him, Callen would have no excuse of not knowing. However, Eric could not bring himself to say the words outright, blatantly and clearly to betray Nell, so he worded it in the way that it revealed what he wanted to say, but could not. "Why? Because, the month of July does nothing for her, Nell prefers the month of October."

Sam almost swallowed his tongue, the shock that he felt unparalleled to anything he had felt in months, and he had been shocked several times over those. His tone of voice cracking displaying that shock, he asked. "What?"

Callen opened his mouth in shock and gave Eric a look of disbelief, wanting what that comment implied to be true, but also wanting clarification. He asked for that clarification, careful of revealing anything he felt in his tone of voice. "What are you saying, Eric?"

Eric cleared his throat, swiveled his chair around to face Callen, surprisingly Sam allowed him as Sam was still in shock, he stood and met eye contact with the Senior Field Agent, as he demanded seriously, "Don't break her heart." His eyes crackling with danger, he firmly threatened. "Callen, if you break my best friend's heart, regardless of whether it is you, or your alias, I will break G. Callen's electronic identity beyond repair so not even Abby Sciuto will be able to recover it."

Callen titled his head to the side as he considered the younger, taller, and normally not so dangerous Technical Operator. Callen smirked as he realized that Eric was serious and what impressed him so was the fact that not an ounce of fear was displayed in Eric's body language or tone of voice. Eric was serious, and he would do exactly what he said without a second thought. It did not scare Callen though, because he had just received clarification, verification that Nell did care about him or at the very least preferred him. Preference, attraction was a start, but Callen wanted more.

That scared Callen more than the thought of his electronic identity becoming broken.

That he wanted to care for someone.

That he wanted someone to love him.

That he wanted a normal relationship that normal people had.

That he did not intend to break off a relationship before it started.

That he did not intend to break a woman's heart.

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**Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favorites, reviews, and constructive criticism.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**John Doyle, Tara (The Wardrobe Coordinator), and the yet to be named temporary support staff assistant are original characters, any other character appearing are the creation of Shane Brennan and/or their respective owners.**

**Chapter Seven**

Nell Jones was embarrassed and she was tired of being so. She would have to figure a way around the pesky emotion. After she had left the boat shed and returned to the Operation of Special Projects Headquarters, she found the nearest restroom with the intent to splash cold water on her face, but once she saw her reflection, she was mortified, another emotion she was tired of. She wondered how many people she had passed, she estimated that it had to be a little more than a dozen, whom did not say a word about the reddening of her jaw and neck. She had faint bite marks along her jawline, up and down the side of her neck and right on her pulse point. As she gingerly touched the love bites, she could hear Deeks' voice in her head asking her which Twilight dude had gotten to her.

She snorted as she tried to compare Callen to any of the fictional Vampires and found that there was no comparison. She giggled as she thought of Callen sparkling with glitter. The only thing that sparkled, glittered on him was his blue eyes, but mostly those pierced, smouldered, or glared. Quickly she sobered, when a newly appointed temporary support staff assistant from the team Renko now called home, entered and did a double take at Nell's reflection. Nell blushed, but forced a smile as her reflection met eye contact with the woman.

"Miss Lange," The woman stated nasally, "Will not be happy that you were doing the hanky panky on company time."

"I'm sure that _Hetty_," Nell retorted, the reddening of her cheeks now from anger instead of embarrassment, "Will be okay with my recent activities as I have done nothing wrong."

"I highly doubt that." The woman snarled. "One thing I can't stand is a bitch who kisses ass to get to the top. The only thing worse is a slut who sleeps her way there. Unfortunately, it looks like you are of both sort."

"Excuse me?" Nell sputtered.

"You heard me." The woman retorted. "The only way Miss Lange would be okay or not care about your trip to the broom closet would be if you kissed her ass frequently or the person who made those Hickeys was her pride and joy. I've been here a week and already know that Agent Callen is her favorite."

Nell narrowed her eyes and jutted her chin out. She resolutely stated, "Miss-I've-been here-a-week, your attitude absolutely sucks, and if you'd like to stick around here at OSP, it seriously needs an adjustment, because you and that sour attitude can and will be replaced. Attitudes like that don't, can't last long."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my boots." The woman sarcastically admitted as she rolled her eyes. She flipped her long hair behind her shoulder, before changing her tone to pityingly. "Honey, your young and might not know, so let me tell you something, kiss asses and sluts are replaceable, because there will always be another behind you, vying for that place in the boss's pocket or the favorite's bed."

Nell blinked and resisted the urge to smack her, which surprised Nell, because she always had preferred to settle disagreements with words, with intelligent debate, not physical satisfaction of forceful attacks. She tightened her lips, clenched her fists, quickly walked away, and left the restroom. She walked briskly toward the wardrobe department; she hoped she would be able to finagle a sweater or something for cover, because if she encountered another opinionated person who commented on her love bites, she would become irate. She could not; she refused to continue the day with the evidence of her encounter with Callen, on showcase for everyone to see, make unjust judgments, and for her to explain. How did one explain something when you did not understand what you were supposed to explain? She highly doubted she could talk her way around it without revealing more than she would like.

She paused to an abrupt stop as she saw Deeks standing just outside of the wardrobe department craning his neck and looking around it. She braced herself for his comments, his jokes, because that was what he did. He made awkward moments bearable, deadly situations seem like amateur pranks gone wrong, and unpredictable outcomes seem foreseeable. She would take whatever comment he slew at her, because at the end of the day, she knew that Deeks was her friend, one of her best, and would never intentionally hurt her. However, her bracing was for naught, because when she approached him, she was pleasantly surprised when Deeks did not verbally acknowledge the love bites. Perplexed she watched him glance at her neck before his gaze landed back on her eyes, but he refrained from commenting on them.

He smiled and greeted her, "Uh, hello."

She narrowed her eyes at his suspicious change of personality, as she replied, "Hmm, hello."

"If you're waiting, um, if you need Tara, it might be a while." Deeks stumbled over the sentence, as he really wanted to say something about what he had witnessed, the evidence of that, but knew better than to say it. Sam had laid into him, after Sam and Kensi had pulled him out of Ops. He scratched the back of his neck, one of his tells of when he felt awkward or uncomfortable. "She and Kensi are in the fitting room measuring for something for the upcoming Op, they were whispering in that way you women do when you don't want us men to know what it is you're talking about."

Nell nodded and turned to walk away, but stopped when she heard Deeks continue speaking.

"Nell Bell," He paused, wondering the best way to word his attempt to help her. "If you're cold," He said as the decibels of his voice varied from high to low back to high. "There's a windbreaker jacket I use after work when I run, when it's too late to surf, in my gym bag beside my desk. I promise it's clean." He made a hand motion toward the bullpen. "It's in the main zipper slot; you can get it out and wear it the rest of the day. You know, 'because it's cold and all."

She smiled and walked over to him. He was sweet for not calling her out, making some ridiculous statement about it being cold; when in actuality it was hotter than what is considered normal for the time of year. She appreciated that kindness. "Thank you, Marty. You don't know how much I appreciate it." She hugged him and whispered against his chest. "You've no idea how much I need a friend right now."

He hugged her back and replied, "You're welcome." He waited until she walked away; entering the bullpen, effectively out of earshot, before he whispered. "Oh, I know how and why."

Meanwhile now in the bullpen, Nell found Deeks' gym bag, and unzipped the main slot. She carefully picked up the silver iPod that rested on top of the bright blue jacket. She placed the iPod underneath the jacket before she pulled the jacket out. Obviously, it would be several sizes too big, but would work. Once she had the jacket on, which covered most of her dress; she zipped it up, and maneuvered the flip up collar so that it finished hiding the marks on her neck. She would have to suffer through the odd looks of wearing the jacket, and the scandalous looks at her jawline. The jacket smelled clean, fresh, ocean water, and very much like Deeks. The smell reminded her of when you visited a place you love, but not as frequently as you'd like.

She walked toward the staircase that lead to Ops and paused when she heard Hetty call out her name.

"Miss Jones," Hetty said, "A word if you would?"

"Yes ma'am," Nell stepped down and followed Hetty to her office. Nell sat down, placed her hands in her lap, and winced at the movement. Her wrist was beginning to bother her more. If it persisted after Hetty had dismissed her, she would go check to see if Eric needed her assistance, if he did, she would help him then go to medical. She was certain that it was not broken or severely sprained, as Callen had given her the okay to start work. If it had been either injury, he would have immediately sent her to medical.

"Tea?" Hetty asked not looking at Nell as she spoke which signalled to Nell that something was not right, as Hetty always acknowledged her.

"Yes, ma'am." Nell replied even though she did not want anything to drink, she had learned shortly after joining the team, that one did not refuse tea from Hetty, however politely the refusal. Nell silently sat for several seconds as she watched Hetty prepare the tea. "Have I done something wrong?"

The questioned made Hetty briefly glance at her, though she did not respond. Hetty finished preparing the tea and placed the beautifully designed antique English Rose teacup and platter in front of Nell, before finally taking a seat behind her desk. Hetty sipped on tea before cradling the fragile cup in her hands. She watched Nell and considered her wording. "Have you anything to confess?"

Nell brought her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down before answered, "Nothing to confess at this time."

Several minutes passed with neither speaking. They each sipped on their Tea. Someone not familiar with what had occurred in Ops during their briefing, would claim that the two was sharing a cup of tea, enjoying the serenity of such an activity, yet that was not what occurred. Thoughts ran rampant in Nell's psyche as she waited the bombshell to drop. However, Hetty and she mutually respected the other, and preferred the other's company, Nell knew that there was a reason why Hetty wanted to speak to her alone, or else she would have addressed her during the briefing.

"Miss Jones," Hetty finally broke the silence. She felt a sense of déjà vu, had she not had a similar conversation with Miss Blye and Detective Deeks weeks ago? "When two people go undercover in an assignment such as the one you will enter with Mister Callen, emotions run high, one gets caught in the moment of an alias without thought of the consequences of what will happen after the mission is over, how those moments can change a partnership, a relationship forever."

Nell quietly listened as she swallowed or bit her bottom lip at certain parts.

"Miss Jones," Hetty sighed as she folded her hands and placed them in her lap. "For once I am at a loss for words. I know what the message is that I would like to convey, and quite frankly is needed, but am uncertain how to proceed."

Nell stared expectantly, before she stated. "Whatever it is, I will be able to handle it."

"Very well," Hetty stated, impressed with the younger woman, "What are you intentions concerning Mister Callen?"

Nell blinked. Perhaps she had spoken too soon, could she handle the question?

"Well?" Hetty prompted. "You had better have the clearest of intentions for him, as he does not trust, care, or love lightly." Hetty paused, "Dear, I beg you not to come to offence, but do not play any sort of game with him. He is not a boy to be strung along until you decide what you would want from him. He is a forty-two year old man who has seen far too much for several lifetimes, let alone the only one he has." Hetty paused. The look of horror, shame, and embarrassment was transparent upon Nell's features. Hetty repeated her earlier question. "What are your intentions?

"I," Nell paused, as she was now for a loss of words. She sighed sadly, before she answered truthfully. "I don't know. I know that I care for him, but my intentions, I do not. I don't know what his are."

Hetty pursed her lips before she stated, "I highly implore you to have come to a conclusion before whatever is occurring between you and Mister Callen goes any further, regardless of not knowing his intent." Hetty paused, "Whatever may be occurring or whatever you conclude should, had best not compromise this assignment, as the simplest of screw ups could get you both killed. Whatever you feel or may feel for Mister Callen needs to be resolved today, and if it is not, which I highly doubt that it shall not; it needs to wait until after the mission is over and the two of you back here safe. Do you understand me, Miss Jones?"

Nell nodded as she recognized the wisdom of Hetty's statements, "Yes, ma'am."

Hetty continued. "Miss Jones, it is quite alright to have a crush on someone, but to fall in love is a different matter. Crushes come and go, but once you open your heart to that deep unconditional love, you will open yourself up for attack, for the possibility that the one you love does not love you back, or perhaps does love you, but not in the same way."

"Are you suggesting for me to ignore whatever it is that I may or may not feel?" Nell asked, confused and on the verge of outrage that someone she highly respected may have suggested to ignore any feelings she held.

"No, not at all," Hetty replied, before correcting herself, "Try as you might, please ignore it during the mission. However, I feel the unrelenting need to tell you," Hetty paused, her voice cracked just ever so, "Miss Jones, please whatever you do, do not make the same mistake that I made when I was close to your age."

"Mistake?" Nell asked disconcerted at the vulnerability Hetty was displaying. "You don't make mistakes."

"Nell," Hetty blinked back tears she had thought to be forever dry. She had cried her tears and found a way to move on, but sometimes, times like this it took her back as if it had just occurred. "I've never told anyone this,"

"Hetty, you don't have," Nell started, but silence with one look from Hetty.

"Yes, indeed I must," Hetty declared, she smiled at the memory of her first love, then frowned as she remembered how that love ended. "I learned entirely too late that love is always worth the fight. Please, learn from my mistake."

Which left Nell with questions, she did not know the answers to.

Who had Hetty loved and lost due to her not fighting for it?

Yet the most significant, most personal complexing question she now held was, how did the girl who ignored the boys she liked, become the woman who fought for the man she loved?

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******Thank y'all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, and reviews. I appreciate all of 'em.**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

Nell jumped, successfully shaken from her ponderings, when Hetty elaborated on her comment, 'Love is always worth fighting for.'

Hetty wistfully began the story of long ago memories, "I was a young girl, seventeen to be exact, when I first met him. He was so dashing, so handsome, and both mentally and physically powerful; he had this quintessence about him that very little men had in the fifties, and now even less embody that elegant swagger." Hetty sighed. "I had recently begun working as a wardrobe assistant on Archie's 1957 film."

"Archie?" Nell asked curious.

"Cary, Cary Grant as he was known, but to all who really knew him, he was Archie." Hetty answered before she continued onward with her bittersweet story. "I was new to show business and had yet to be introduced to anyone other than Archie and the other ladies in my department. Archie was going over his lines as I finished sewing a snag in his shirt for an upcoming scene, when we were approached by a man whom from the moment my eyes met his, I was enamored."

Nell smiled in understanding; she could share the sentiment as the same thing had happened to her concerning Callen.

Hetty continued pensively, "Miss Jones, rest assured, that times were very different during that era. You see the word minor or underage had yet to have legal effect, as girls younger than my seventeen were married off as early as eleven, by seventeen already having at the very least one child, often five or more. My parents raised me to believe in the power of love, because their love story was something books and films dare hope to imitate; as such, I refused to settle for a loveless marriage. In those times, unwed meant naïve and virginal; I was very much so. However, his blue eyes pierced those resistances, my morals. I became victim of an arrow from the vexatious Cupid. I was in love with him, Miss Jones." Hetty paused, took a deep shuddering breath, and closed her eyes, before opening them to reveal unshed tears. "He was the reason that I am now with NCIS."

"How?" Nell asked as her brow furrowed, perplexed how a first love would be the reason Hetty was here. "What?"

"He was a CIA Operative, my dear; one of his many covers was Archie's Agent. He was one of the early CIA Operatives before that a part of the predecessor of the CIA, The Office of Strategic Services. He had been an active Operative for at least ten years, before I had met him. He specialized in being someone, anyone other than himself, much like what the OSP now does, but on a larger scale. I was fortunate enough to see who he was."

Nell inwardly sighed at the beginning of the love story. She thought it was romantic, yet she could not help, but be a bit envious of Hetty even though Nell knew that the love story ended badly, though not how. Regardless of the ending, Hetty had known the man behind the mask of her secretive beau, whereas Nell knew very little behind Callen's mask. What Nell did know, she felt that it was not enough to verify her infatuation, the love she felt for him. She was unfamiliar with the concept of love at first sight and it drove her mad, because she had very little to analyze, where it concerned her feelings for him. She knew him as a coworker, a friend, yet one needed to know more about the man one loved than basic semantics.

Hetty continued, "From the beginning of our courtship, I would have done anything he requested or demanded of me. Soon after the first Rose he gave me, I adore the language of flowers, because of him," She paused and sighed. "Pardon me, I digress; he suggested that I assist him as my job afforded me to move easier through Hollywood than he as one of the leading man's agents. Miss Jones, in the fifties, Hollywood was a hot bed for things such as espionage. Quite a large number of the leading men and ladies or their management had a hand in the Cold War; some were on the fringe while others were right in the cusp. I agreed to his request, which placed me in the cusp. Unfortunately, our time together came to an end, but I continued working with the CIA, which eventually led me to other Agencies, NCIS being one. I owe him everything and am left with many regrets. I should have fought harder for him, for us." She cleared her throat and twitched her nose. "Please," Her voice crackled with emotion. "I implore you, no I beg of you, do not make the same mistake with Mister Callen that I did with,"

Nell felt disappointment when Hetty stopped talking, as she wanted to know the name of the special gentleman that had won Hetty's heart, whom obviously still had it, but once Nell realized why Hetty had stopped, Nell felt relief, because soon after she felt Callen's presence behind her. Nell curled her bottom lip into her mouth and lightly bit it at his audacity. As he stood behind her, he caressed the back of her neck, in view of Hetty's all seeing eye.

"Mister Callen," Hetty said amused she watched Nell subtly squirm away from his touch, only for his fingertips to ghost over the younger woman's skin. "What impeccable timing you have, I was about to inform Miss Jones that I believe that the two of you need to, how do you say, iron out the details of your story, and make it perfectly _clear_ what the expectations are from the _both_ of you during the upcoming Op. Although, Miss Jones, forgive me," Hetty glanced at Nell whom nodded and tightly smiled as Callen continued to caress the bare skin, successfully creating gooseflesh. Hetty watched Nell tremble, although Hetty was uncertain whether it was in anger, embarrassment, or pleasure. Hetty decided anger and embarrassment at the way the younger woman clenched her jaw. "Is highly skilled, she lacks certain intelligence and experience where it concerns active ongoing field work."

"Hetty," Callen stated tightly as he stared at the top of Nell's head. "Thank you for your concern, but I've got it under control."

"Precisely," Hetty replied, her lips threatened a small smile. "After all, is that not why you and Miss Jones took a field trip to the boat shed?"

His eyes flew to Hetty's, which made the small smile materialize only for a moment. He knew that she knew that he now knew that she knew what had truly happened in the boat shed. Nell was oblivious to the silent exchange.

"Yes Hetty," He answered before his blue eyes settled once again on the top of Nell's head. "However there are still things to discuss, which is why Nell and I are going to have a business dinner tonight."

"What?" Nell looked up from her lap to slightly behind her, in order to look up at Callen; successfully removing his caressing fingers from her neck. "We are?"

"Yes, we are." Callen confirmed. Quickly, he looked away from Nell's stunned brown eyes, before just as quickly regaining eye contact. "Eric needs your input on your alias."

"What?" She asked, confused. "We hardly ever collaborate with the person who will become the alias we back stop. We create and you guys run with it."

"True," He agreed. "But Sam, Kensi, and Deeks have been doing this longer than you. I've been doing it longer than them. At first, you'll need to take baby steps, until you're comfortable with the alias, and in your case, making your alias as close to you, without it being you, will be essential for you to stay in that alias, regardless of the situation." He paused. "We'll talk more about it tonight, because opening night is approaching; we need to be more than ready, watching our 'p's and q's' okay?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be on my best behavior."" Nell quipped, irritated that he was able to be condescending and caring at the same time, though her irritation had more to do with his capability of ignoring what had happened in the boat shed. She realized she should not be surprised or hurt, because he truly was a master of disguising the truth and himself. "Is there anything else I need to know at this point in time, Agent Callen?"

For a fraction of a second, he narrowed his eyes at her not liking how she had reverted to calling him 'sir' and 'Agent Callen.' Abruptly, his facial expression snapped to neutral, making her question whether she had imagined the narrowing of his eyes. "Yes, Miss Jones, one more thing, when you see Eric, tell him, thank you for me."

Her brow furrowed in confusion at the cryptic message as her mouth set in anger at him calling her Miss Jones.

He elaborated only, because he knew that Eric would question her on the reason behind the thank you, and not because of the obvious confusion or anger, she held. "Because without the information he gave me, I would have never have believed it, because it's _almost_ undetectable."

"Believed what?" She questioned, before she added smartly. "Sir?"

"He'll know what." He answered with a small smirk crossing his lips, as he imagined the look on Eric would give her, thinking that he had been caught revealing top secret best friend information to the enemy, the object of the classified material. "You're dismissed," He paused shortly before he added, successfully needling her. "Miss Jones."

Her eyes narrowed, the anger was palpable in her body language as she stood. She said a polite goodbye, oblivious to Hetty's obvious amusement of the vocal and silent exchange that had occurred between her Senior Agent and Intelligence Analyst. As Hetty considered the exchange, she could only hope that their love story would not end the way hers had. No, as she reconsidered her thought, she could do more than hope, she would guarantee that Nell Jones got her happy ending with the stubborn Callen, because she never wanted the younger woman to suffer as she had. One broken heart over a secretive blue eyed man was more than enough.

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******Thank y'all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, and reviews. I appreciate all of 'em.**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

Callen realized that angering Nell so close to the start of the Op was a bad idea, simply put he had been a jerk to her, but he could not resist the temptation. He enjoyed how her hazel eyes ignited in anger, how her body language became tense as if readying to strike even though she was not prone to violence, and how she pursed her lips; those lips would be the death of him. If he were ever to become a victim of the Kiss of Death urban myth, he wanted her lips to be the one that administrated that final blow. Normally he was not a man who enjoyed public displays of affection, putting up with those moments for aliases and cases sake, with Kensi, and before that Tracy Keller and Kristen Donahue. Although, where it concerned Nell, he did not care who saw him subtly declare his feelings, though to those who knew him, would realize that nothing about those declarations were subtle.

His eyes sparkled in amusement as they followed a furious Nell across the bullpen and up the staircase that would lead to the Ops Command Center. He smirked at her controlled rage, imagining that rage exploding later when they were alone. He had to admire and respect her control, because he highly doubted he could have stayed so calm, if it was she needling him. Place him in any sort of fight that was physical, violent, guns blazing, he would be in control of every movement, every word, but place him in an emotional or sensual argument with someone he cared about, he was doomed. He should have listened to Nate, years ago when the Psychologist had attempted an initiation to help him overcome the little known weakness.

Hetty cleared her throat to bring his attention back to her instead of the now vacant spot on the staircase.

Slowly, he brought his eyes from Nell's retreating figure to Hetty.

He was not sure how Hetty did it, but she had narrowed her eyes at him as she simultaneously arched an eyebrow and frowned at him.

"Mr. Callen, we have several topics to discuss," Hetty stated in a gravelly voice just above a whisper.

He winced as he gripped the back of the chair that Nell had moments ago vacated. Each time, he could remember, Hetty using that sort of tone with him, it always ended with him feeling as if he had been fleeced or a piece of himself left exposed, sometimes both, nevertheless he hated both feelings.

She continued in the same tone and he highly expected her to do so for the rest of the conversation. It was her way of psyching him out, as Sam would claim. "Do sit, would you like a cup of tea, Mister Callen?"

"Not particularly." As he warily sat, he replied, even though she had begun to make him one. He knew he would have to pretend to drink it. Normally, he enjoyed tea with Hetty, but this tea was not a tea, but an obscure interrogation. He realized it and she knew that he realized it. She enjoyed the niceties of interrogation, debate, which had disappeared over time. There were times, that he, too, enjoyed it, but this was one of the times where he preferred to get the hell out of Hetty's Office.

She placed his tea in front of him and fixed herself another one. He observed her quietly and contemplated on what could have been said between Hetty and Nell, before he had arrived.

"What were you and Nell talking about?" Callen asked, as he took a sip of the tea, quickly darting his tongue out to run over his top lip where the tea had left a trail.

"Mr. Callen." Hetty answered in her normal tone of voice, paused just shy of a moment, and continued. "You."

"Me?" He asked. "Why?"

"I asked her a question that I will ask you," She paused. "With a modification, of course."

"That question and modification, would be?" He prompted.

She took a small sip of the tea before she asked, "What are your intentions with Miss Jones?"

He placed the fragile teacup on the just as fragile platter and went to stand, but paused when he heard Hetty use the gravelly voice from earlier, the one he despised.

"You may be able to run from it in your mind and perhaps even your heart, Mr. Callen, but you will not and do not have that luxury in day to day life for the unforeseeable future." She stated. "You must confront whatever it is head on, or at the least, make it clear that whatever it is, will be addressed after the Op has been finished. As you so eloquently said earlier in the attempt to cancel the Op before it had started, you and Miss Jones may be deep cover for months. She is a brilliant Analyst with a bright future, but she is currently inexperienced and untried at being a Field Agent. She will be both your partner and student. She will rely on you more than any of your past partners ever had to."

"You're worried, too." He stated in realization.

"Too?" She repeated, asking for clarification.

"I'm," He paused and cleared his throat. "I'm worried that I won't be able to protect her."

"Hogwash!" She exclaimed. "That is the worst attitude to have! It is a self-fulfilling prophecy that is boxing not only you and Miss Jones, but also this team. Pardon my frankness, but you need to man up, stop feeling defeated before you have started either race whether it be the case or the fledging relationship that neither you or Miss Jones will act upon until after the Op, that Mister Callen was not rhetoric. You will not initiate, encourage, or allow anything to happen between you and Miss Jones until the Op is successfully completed." She paused, before stressing the question. "Do you understand me?"

"Hetty, do you not realize the nature of the Op?" Callen asked growing irritated at how Hetty felt the need to meddle in his personal affairs, not once, but several times. Since the conversation had started, she had directly warned him three times not to start anything with Nell until after the Op, and he had a hunch that she had warned Nell several times as well. Rationally, he understood why she did it, because if he or Nell let their personal feelings get in the middle of the case, they could both make a mistake and get each other killed.

"Do not patronize me, Mister Callen." Hetty retorted. "I under," She blinked when she realized that he had interrupted her.

"I would appreciate if you would extend that same courtesy to Nell and me." He interrupted, his blue eyes darkening in anger. "I am not an amateur. You, of all people, should realize what I have done, what I have been through. You know what the CIA really does, what it isn't, and what is fabricated for the public and even part of our Government to know. You know what happens when Black Ops go wrong. You know, that I," He paused, close to choking on his anger, his emotions. "Would never intentionally put anyone in danger, but specifically a woman, I hate that Nell is being subjected to this ridiculous witch hunt; Kensi would have sufficed with either Sam, or me, Mike even, or hell Deeks would have been okay, because I'm sure that he could have been aged, and Kensi de-aged somehow. Nell should have never been considered for this, regardless of the cockamamie profile of an eighteen-year-old being ideal."

"I agree." She interjected. "I spoke to Leon about it, about how I was uncertain of Miss Jones' ability to carry out the mission, but Leon has faith in her, as do I."

"Vance is completely oblivious to what goes on here at OSP. As soon as he appointed Granger, Assistant Director, and assigned him here in Los Angeles, Vance lost access to most, if not all, intel concerning this office." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired face. It was not lunch yet, and he already felt emotionally exhausted. "This was Granger's idea, Hetty, you cannot try to persuade me to think different, because I know. It was in the way he stood, the way he talked, the way he looked at Nell. He has something planned and it's not good."

"Mister Callen, although, I agree that Granger does not have the best intentions of this team at heart, I highly doubt that he has something nefarious planned for either you or Miss Jones, or anyone else in this office, for that matter. He is far too intelligent to orchestrate and execute such a plan."

"Hetty, every mission, intelligent men, and women fall due to their cockiness and belief that they are invisible, that they are above the law. Granger is no different," Callen paused as he reconsidered what he said. "I take that back, Granger is different, because he has his position to hide behind. Let me tell you, that when this Op is over, Granger and I, will settle whatever the hell he has against me, because I am tired, I am through with him screwing this team, this office over, and putting the people that I care about in the direct line of fire." His blue eyes darkened and his pupils dilated in fury. "It pissed me off what he did to Kensi, extorting her father's memory, placing her in danger, but I knew that although it hurt her, she could handle it, and if she couldn't her partner could, if Deeks couldn't the team as a whole would." He paused again, shaking his head, clearing his throat. "It pains me to admit it, but I can't say that I know Nell will be able to handle this mission, because I have doubts, not some ridiculous self-prophecy that your sprouted earlier, but serious doubts about whether _I _will be able to handle it." He paused and raised both of his hands in placation as if that would make Hetty forgive him for not allowing her to talk, as she had attempted to disagree. "Will Nell and I get the mission done? Absolutely, I just have doubts on _how_ we're going to get to the end of it, how we're going to get through unscathed."

"Mister Callen, I hear you, and understand your frustration and even some of your doubts; however we must place our faith in Miss Jones. She knows basic defense, she is an adequate shot albeit in ideal circumstances, and she is able to think on her feet, all of those qualities could protect her from an easy threat, but we both realize from our respective experiences, Mister Callen, that there is and will be nothing easy about this Op. If we build upon what she already knows, perhaps our faith in her will become stronger, because she will become stronger."

"We don't have time to build on what she knows." He growled in frustration.

"No, not enough time, but we do have a little." She replied, before started firing question after question, not allowing enough time for him to answer. "You told Marty that Miss Jones was not entering that club until he and Miss Blye checked it out, did you not? Was he not supposed to acquire an invitation for Friday night? Does this not mean that Miss Jones has until, the very least, Friday to learn as much as she can?" She paused, as a look of pure mischief crossed her eyes. "I believe that I have solved one of your problems, the cause of one your doubts."

He arched an eyebrow as if to say 'really.'

"Are you worried that you will not protect Miss Jones, because you will not be able to be in two places at once, that you fear that you will have to choose between her safety and the success of the mission? That if it came down to it, you would choose Miss Jones, over the mission, over your own life."

"Get out of my head, Nate." He answered sarcastically, because she had hit too close to the matter at hand.

Hetty smirked, "My dear, in my day, we didn't have Operational Psychologists, we had to be our own, and often to each other." She paused. "I digress, and assume that you'll be Mister Carl for the unforeseeable future."

"Yes." He answered stiffly; annoyed that she had been able to hit one of his exposed nerves.

She ignored his annoyance as she propositioned, "The wife of a very rich, influential businessman with shady dealings, such of Mister Carl's caliber would, perhaps not cause suspicion, if she had a bodyguard."

"Bodyguard?" Callen repeated, warming up to the idea, before he realized that Deeks and Kensi would be a couple at the club, and that Sam would be somewhere on the staff of the same club. There was no one left on the west coast that he trusted on such an assignment of protecting someone he cared for. "Who do you have in mind?"

However, he mistakenly forgot that there was indeed one man in the Los Angeles area that he had trusted for years, actually just as long as he had trusted Sam. He had forgotten, because the man was no longer on his team, but on a different team, a team that had a bullpen on the other side of the large building.

Mike Renko.

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**Thank y'all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, reviews, and constructive criticism. I appreciate all of 'em. I apologize for the wait that occurred between Chapters 7 and 8. If you would like to, you can friend me on facebook, in order to follow the behind the scenes progress of my stories, chat about the stories, the Nallen ship, or anything else really. My facebook URL is (without the**** spaces) http : www . facebook fan fic author bren gail**


	10. Chapter Ten

_Author's Note: I am so sorry for the delay of this update. For the past week, the site has given me issues with uploading and posting, Chapter 10 and 11, have been ready since early last week. However, with the long wait that y'all patiently went through, I merged 10 and 11, into this super long chapter, I hope that you can forgive me, and enjoy the update. Please, let me know what you thought of it; what you liked and didn't like. Thank you all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, and reviews. I appreciate it all._

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**Chapter 10**

Meanwhile, Eric Beale had sent both Kensi and Deeks the information on their aliases and had backstopped Mister Carl as much as he could until he received Nell's input on her alias. He needed a surname for Mister Carl, because although Mister Carl No Surname worked for a short matter of time as Callen normally used the alias, it would not work while being undercover for any length of time. Furthermore, Eric needed to know where and how the aliases had met, married, and how long they had been married. It was surreal and he very much wanted this to be some nightmare, because that was all he could think of this Op had the potential on becoming.

He took his glasses off placing them beside his keyboard before he placed the tip of his right thumb on one closed eyelid, the tip of his right index finger on the other eyelid, and gently massaged his eyes. The emotions of the day and the stress of the upcoming case had exhausted him, but what tired him more was the fact that he had less than four hours of sleep, because he had not fallen asleep until close to one in the morning. He had not expected at Five AM to be called to start his workday several hours early. He had been actively working since around six and most of that time used going through Pike's computer then the briefing and subsequently backstopping aliases. He glanced at his watch and exhaled a long deep breathe. It was eleven o'clock and he needed caffeine.

The double automatic doors slid open. He recognized it was Nell without looking, because as soon as the doors had closed she started on a tangent. He retrieved his glasses and slid them back on in order to watch said tangent. He blinked in surprise then confusion as he recognized that she was wearing one of Deeks' jackets. When his eyes landed on her exposed jaw then her covered neck, he realized what lay beneath the jacket. Any residual anger or irritation he held for Deeks' or the comments the Detective had said earlier about both him and Nell immediately disappeared and was forgiven, as Deeks must have seen the evidence that was left by what most of the team had watched through the surveillance feed.

"I cannot bloody believe him, Eric!" Nell stated through gritted teeth as she tightly hugged her abdomen with her right arm, her left resting gently against her abdomen. She walked to the computer station directly to his right, sat, and gnawed her bottom lip.

"Which him?" He asked as he turned in his chair without moving said chair, in order to look at her. He blinked surprised at the amount of anger that emanated from her. "There are a lot of 'hims' to be mad at today, so please clarify which one you are currently mad at."

"Callen," She answered in a contemptuous tone as she rested her hurt wrist on the armrest. "He, I, he, just grrr!"

Eric bit his lip to prevent from smiling or laughing. He did not find his best friend distraught amusing at all, but the fact that she had actually grrr-ed.

"Did you grr at me?" He asked for clarification even though he knew what he had heard. He had tried to hide his amusement, but it was obvious in his voice, "What is this; a Facebook status, tweet, a comment on a blog?"

"Eric Christopher Beale, do not laugh at me." She growled as her face distorted as if she were about to cry.

"Nell, look at me." He turned his body toward her without moving his chair, and stated quickly, in the attempt to prevent the tears from falling. She looked at him and blinked, two solitary tears, one from each eye escaped her hazel eyes and slid down her face. Suddenly heartbroken for his best friend, he frowned, and looked at her pityingly. He was not comfortable with someone crying, seeing Nell cry was worse as she always had to be in control, but he would support her in any way that she needed, even if it meant letting her cry, allowing her to lose the control that she fought to hold onto. He gently took a hand of her hands and gingerly held them comfortingly. "I'm not laughing at you. What did Callen do?" He paused as he watched her attempt to withdrawal into herself. He would not, could not let her do so, because he knew that she needed to get whatever disdain or hurt feelings she felt for Callen out of the way, now. "Nell, do I have to kick his ass?"

She blinked, immobilized in shock. "You said ass."

"Of course," He snorted in disbelief as he rolled his eyes before he continued, some words emphasized. "That's what you latch unto. The fact that I just _threatened_ someone with _physical_ force, a _scary_ somebody like _Callen_, just rolls off your back, but I _curse_, you act as if it is a _huge_ deal."

"Oh no," She said, turning both her body and chair so that she could speak more directly at him. "Eric, I'm sorry. I was not shocked, at all; that you were trying to protect me, defend me, to Callen, what was shocking was that you cursed."

"Uh," He paused, afraid that she had heard about his minor altercation with Callen earlier. "How is me threatening Callen, hypothetically, of course, not shocking?" He paused, hoping she never found out about his actual threat, would not need a reason to find out.

"You're my best friend." She smiled as she playfully punched his bicep with her unarmed wrist. "Best friends do that for each other. They stand up for the other, regardless of whom they are standing against," She smiled wider as her eyes glistened, tiny tears escaped from the corner of her eyes. She hugged him and he returned the hug, comfortingly running a hand back and forth in a caressing motion on a portion of her mid back. She sniffled for several moments as she placed her head on his shoulder, before silently the tears fell, tears of anger, frustration, confusion, hurt, and love. Neither heard the sound of the automatic double doors opening then closing. She nuzzled her nose into his neck for comfort, she took a shaky breath, and stated. "I love you, Eric; I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Woah, TMI!" Deeks exclaimed, making it known that the two had an audience, as he misinterpreted what he and his partner witnessed. "Ouch!" He exclaimed, as he rubbed a spot on his bicep, where Kensi had just smacked him.

Eric rolled his eyes at Deeks as Nell lifted her head from Eric's shoulder and pulled away from the hug. She swiped the tears away and turned to the computer station, typing in her log in information.

"Deeks." Kensi hissed.

"What?" Deeks exclaimed as his eye widened. He brought his arms out in front of him with the palms upward. "How else do you think I should comprehend that? She was declaring her love for him!"

"Deeks!" Kensi once again hissed. "Shut up! I swear you love the taste of your foot!"

"Nah," Deeks arched an eyebrow, his right nostril slightly twitched, and his lips formed a sensual, evil smile. "Not mine."

"Ew!" Kensi declared disbelieving as she rolled her eyes. Her cheeks tinged slightly pink under her olive tanned complexion. "Deeks you're insufferable!"

Deeks tipped his head in consideration and grinned, "That's not the first time today I've been called insufferable and won't be the last ever."

Nell cleared her throat, tiring of their banter. If she were honest with herself, she was envious of it, because it was rare for her and Callen to engage in that sort of thing. This morning before he had administrated first aid had been the first time they had bantered in months. "Was there something either of you needed?"

"Yes," Deeks answered. "Actually there is. Once Tara The Wardrobe Lord let me in her closet, me and Fern started building on the aliases Eric sent us."

"And?" Both Nell and Eric prompted.

Deeks scratched the back of his neck and hesitated to answer, but was prevented from having to answer.

Kensi answered instead. "We've come to the conclusion that my alias, Kennedy, should be Mister Carl's business investor, partner, old friend, something along those lines, that way if we're spotted at the house by Doyle's men, it won't be suspicious. And it gives us another location to meet instead of just the Club."

"The Starship, sugar bear." Deeks interjected.

Kensi rolled her eyes.

Nell asked, preventing the banter from continuing, "Why Callen, why can't one of you be connected to me?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Kensi admitted. "What do you suggest?"

"Hmm," Nell murmured as she tapped an index finger to her chin, "Kennedy's niece, Eleanor, the daughter of Kennedy's older brother, Lincoln. He and my mother, Anna Lisa, died in a car crash when I was twelve. Kennedy has been my guardian since, or rather my nannies raised me, my favorite was Etta, and the two before her were Leona and Flora. Kennedy can be Carl's business manager, which is how Carl and I met, through Kennedy. That'll work."

"President fetish?" Deeks asked as he smirked. "Nice."

Nell coolly glared, "Everyone born to my father's family represents a presidential name, whether it be the actual president or members of his family."

Deeks held his hands up in surrender, the smirk disappeared, apologetic and seriousness replaced it. He asked, genuinely curious, "Sorry, Nell Bell, who are you named after."

"Eleanor Roosevelt." She replied, forgiving him. "Nell is an uncommon variant; my sister Nora is named after her, too."

"Cool, I didn't know that." Eric retorted. "The use of Kennedy for Kensi was a mighty fine coincidence."

"Never say mighty fine, ever again." Deeks shuddered playfully, but quite serious on what he said. Kensi and Nell smiled.

Eric glared, before he turned his gaze to Nell, he asked, "What will Carl and Eleanor's surnames be?"

"Doesn't matter." Nell answered.

"I think Nallen would be perfect, don't you think?" Deeks retorted.

Eric, Kensi, and Nell blankly looked at Deeks.

"You know," Deeks continued, "Like Brangelina or TomKat, a mixture of names to form a couple name. You know, Nallen, Nell and Callen?"

"No." Nell immediately vetoed, not wanting to explain the reasoning behind the name when Callen found out; he always found things out.

"Come on," Deeks retorted. He glanced at Kensi, who with wide eyes shook her head as if to say he was on his own. "It's perfect, it's Irish. Did you know that? It is a last name, so it doubles its purpose. What better way is there to get in with Doyle, a man proud of his Irish ancestry, than a rich shady man with an Irish last name? Huh? Huh?"

"I don't think that it's Irish." Eric answered uncertain.

"Deeks, just because it's a name of an Irish Pub, doesn't mean that it's Irish." Kensi retorted, herself unsure of the nationality, yet she wanted to needle her partner. She loved it when he squirmed; it was adorable.

"But," Eric continued making Nell frown and Deeks grin, "That doesn't make it any less of a choice. I'm quite fond of the couple pet name."

"Eric Christopher!" Nell firmly glared.

"Seriously, Nell Bell," Deeks started, but was prevented from finishing his thought.

Nell interrupted, "You know something is going to be bad, when _you_ say seriously."

"I'm hurt that you feel the need to continuously shoot me and my wonderful ideas down." Deeks answered, playfully wounded. He continued, "You did say that it and I quote," Deeks paused to make air quotes, "It doesn't matter."

Nell glanced at Kensi for help; she shrugged and half grimaced, "I'm sorry, Nell, you did say that."

Nell growled and stared at the ceiling as she began to swivel herself around in the chair, "I knew I should have called in for the first time today."

Kensi glanced concerned at the younger woman.

Deeks did a dramatic playful double take, making his eyes widen, his mouth frown, and his nose scrunch up.

Eric shook his head as he grinned and tapped away on his keyboard.

The automatic double door entrance to Ops opened. Kensi and Deeks glanced first, both smiling when they saw who was with Callen.

"Mike, my man, how've you been?" Deeks greeted, chuckling. The two men hugged, the only way to describe it, was man style.

"Been doing," Mike grinned, answered as he stepped away. His grin, if possible, widened at seeing his former partner. "You taking care of our man?"

Kensi quirked an eyebrow, shook her head, and grinned as she hugged her first ever NCIS partner. She answered, as she held unto the hug tight, "Of course, I'm taking care of _your_ man." She laughed, as she pulled away from the embrace. "You need to do something about him, he's awfully high maintenance. You know, with the frequent bathroom stops, he whines when he's hair gets frizzy and sweaty, and he won't let me eat my doughnuts like you used to let me."

Deeks rolled his eyes as Eric snorted. Eric stated, "Dude, Deeks, Mike's the one that got her hooked on those jelly contraptions."

Deeks playfully glare and grimaced at Mike, "Buddy, you and I, are no longer cool."

Nell continued to swivel in her chair, though not as fast or obvious or completely in a circle as she had, now it was more of a sway and slowly twisting a little to the left then right before going back left. She controlled her breathing, attempted to find inner peace, as she tried unsuccessfully to block out all of the chatter. She heard bits and pieces, her interest piqued when she heard Renko say that he was on loan to the team for the Op, that he was going to be her personal assistant. Nell perceived the title as a way to mollify her into believing that he was not her bodyguard, but simply someone to assist her with whatever her alias did. She wondered when Hetty and Callen would cease trying to put one over on her.

Her ponderings ended as her breathing hitched and she jerked slightly when she felt Callen place a warm hand on her shoulder, crushing the side of Deeks jacket underneath his palm, his thumb mindlessly caressing the side of her neck, where a love bite had formed. His other hand firmly on the desk, engulfing her personal space, he hovered above her.

She shivered before firmly resolving that she would not allow him to affect her so. She was the one in charge, regardless of his rank, she had to be, or else she had serious reservations on whether she would survive the Op. She had serious control issues and this Op would force much of the control from her, them, to Doyle and his organization. What she _could_ control was the dynamic between her and Callen. She realized she was fooling herself into believing that Callen, an Alpha male, would allow her to steer the course, but she had to hold unto that foolish belief, because she knew she could take control, because her will power was strong, and often unmatched. Everyone knew that Callen allowed Sam, who also knew yet playfully denied it, to think Sam was the Alpha of the partnership, but she did not want that sort of control that Sam had, because Callen could take the control at any point.

"You okay?" Callen whispered an inch from her ear.

Nell nodded as she bit her bottom lip. She loved and hated how he made her feel. On one end, she enjoyed his attention, whether it be him listening or talking to her, or when he carelessly or purposely touched her, but today was overload of caresses, of attention, of _Callen_. She was unprepared for the onslaught and she knew that he was not putting much effort in anything, which is what truly scared her. What would happen when he did focus upon her, with all effort and no distractions? No other time in her life had she felt like this, that she looked forward to a struggle for control, which she had even considered relinquishing control to someone else, but she could not relinquish it or allow him to take it; she was confused on all aspects except that she cared about him, that she wanted him to care about her.

"You sure?" Callen asked, this time his mouth a breath away from the upper most part of the shell of her ear.

She swallowed, forced a smile that was not as bright as the one she wanted to display, and nodded again.

The automatic double doors closed, admitting Hetty and Sam.

"What we got?" Sam asked, his brow furrowing at Callen and Nell.

Callen caught the confused look of Sam and the subtle warning one of Hetty, before he slowly stood straight, but did not step away from Nell or take his hand away from Nell's shoulder.

"We haven't chosen a last name for Mister Carl." Eric answered.

"Grayson," Sam replied firmly as if there were no other options.

"Grayson, Mr. Hanna?" Hetty asked.

"That name," Callen stated contemplative as he struggled to grasp the meaning. "I've heard that name why does that mean something to me?"

Sam grinned and tipped his head toward Callen, "You're my Robin to my Batman."

"Whatever," Callen smirked, his blue eyes sparkling. "If anything, you're _my_ Robin to my Batman."

"Great," Eric stated, interrupting Sam and Callen's banter, "Carl and Eleanor Grayson."

"I'm calling you, Nell." Callen said as he looked down at her, only now just hearing the name of her alias. He saw her look of confusion, "Nell's a variant of Eleanor, isn't it? If anyone questions why I'm calling you Nell, instead of Eleanor, that's what we'll tell them." He paused when he recognized that she was impressed with him, but still uncertain why he would not call her Eleanor. He continued, "When I think of the name Eleanor, I think of Sam's Great Aunt, she's pushing a hundred."

"Ninety," Sam corrected, smiling to himself, glad that Callen had finally allowed himself, reluctantly, to be included in the family to the point he was referencing members of the family in a conversation. It proved he was intricately apart of the family, he had for years fought, because family was something that Callen had never had, and all previous attempts to gain family, had failed.

"What's ten years?" Callen asked impertinently.

"Age difference is a funny thing. Sometimes it matters, others it doesn't." Nell answered dryly, forgetting the large audience.

The dry quip, to anyone else, on any other day would not have caused such contemplation.

Hetty pursed her lips as her gaze went from young Nell to Callen, to gauge his reaction, which was entirely too neutral for the subject matter.

Kensi and Sam stared directly at Callen, waiting on him to comment, because no matter how indifferent he looked, it was not what he was feeling. Sam knew that the comment had hurt him; it must have, because Callen cared about her, and for those feelings to be derailed, because of something out of his control, his age, and her age, would frustrate and enrage him to the point where that was all he would think about. Callen was a calm cool collected control freak. He could control his outer emotions and body language while losing the control, he craved, but inwardly he would be an absolute nervous wreck.

Mike looked back and forth between Callen and Nell, finally understanding why Nell had been so happy to see him at the boat shed; she was trying to use him as a buffer. He was the only one, who did not know what happened between Callen and Nell in the interrogation room.

Deeks and Eric stared flabbergasted at her. Deeks was surprised that she had thought or said it, while Eric was surprised that she had targeted what could be a large issue in her relationship with Callen, whether it be their aliases or themselves. Nell ignored the big issues in relationships, hell; she ignored relationships, even as far as referring to the word as 'the R word' as if it was a word to fear, as Voldemort was to many, in the Harry Potter 'verse.

The only sounds heard in Ops were the tapping of keys on keyboards, beeps of the equipment, along with other noises originating from the high tech equipment.

Nell felt uncomfortable with the scrutiny from the others and the neutrality Callen displayed; he refused to make eye contact. She shifted in her seat away from Callen. He tightened his grip on her shoulder and bent down, almost squatting in front of her, before she realized what his agenda was; his lips captured hers as he finally met eye contact with her. His eyes burned with intensity that she had never seen him display. The light in his eyes was far more than a sparkle, more like a crackle of blue fire. Shock, anger, and joy swirled in her eyes. The kiss was chaste compared to the earlier ones that they had shared, but it was powerful and spoke volumes within the ten seconds that it lasted.

He pulled away from the kiss, his blue eyes never straying from her honey brown, and the hand that had a grip on her shoulder quickly and smoothly trailed up the side of the column of her neck to her jaw. She bit the side of her bottom lip. He cradled her left jaw in his hand, his thumb reverently caressing her bottom lip. His other hand smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear. Her skin tingled where he touched her. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. He sensed she was about to pull away, their moment was quickly becoming a fleeting memory. He tightened his hold of her jaw and slightly nudged it, her eyes popped open, her lips pursed.

"Nell," He firmly said as he brought his hand resting at her ear to the right side of her face. He cradled it before he gave her a quick peck on her pursed lips, "Age is a number implied on _our_ driver's licenses, not _our_ hearts." His voice never wavered in his resolve, as he continued, although he would have preferred to clear this issue in private. He feared, if he waited, it would be too late to calm her, assure her on the issue, which he believed not to be an issue. "Age does _not_ matter; simple as that, it will not matter."

She could not believe what he had done, what he had said.

She was in shock.

How could he, why did he kiss her in front of their friends, colleagues, and their boss?

It was highly unprofessional and something that she had not foreseen, but inwardly a part of her smiled, because he had said that her age didn't matter to him, but the rest of her freaked out, because lines were now drawn, and she was not the one in charge.

Callen smoothly pulled away and stood up, not expecting an answer or rebuttal, because he knew that he had shocked her speechless. He glanced at everyone, daring them to comment on what they had witnessed. His eyes landed on Renko, "Mike, you up for some sparring?"

"Sure," Mike answered, his voice firm, but his facial expression concerned. He had a feeling that he would be on the receiving end of Callen's anger and frustration, but he was okay with getting the brunt of it, what he was not okay with, was his friend taking a risk over someone who didn't know what they wanted, whether she wanted what she wanted. Mike liked Nell, thought she was a wonderful girl, but he had his reservations about her, where it concerned Callen. Callen was his oldest friend; they went back years, he, Callen and Sam. "I'm game."

After Mike and Callen left with the gym in mind as their next destination, Deeks joked, ignoring the obvious outlet to joke about, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I think that we should have a ten second moment of silence for the Agent that was known as Mike Renko." Deeks paused dramatically for three seconds, before he continued. "I feel sorry for the dude. I hope he knows a good doctor."

For once, they all agreed with Deeks' attempt at comic relief.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

Mike Renko had known that agreeing to spar with Callen in the mental and emotion state that he was in, would cause him to become a living, breathing punching bag that fought back, what he had not expected was for Callen to answer his questions or confide in him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mike asked, twenty minutes after they had begun sparring. He dodged Callen's fist and took an unsuccessful jab at him.

Callen dodged the jab and lowered his arms. He walked over to where they had left their clean white towels and water bottles. He patted his face dry with the towel and wrapped it around his neck before he took a long swig of the refreshing water. Mike interpreted the silence as a signal to back off.

"Sorry, man, you don't have to talk about it." Mike apologized as he picked up his towel, patted his face and neck dry before he wrapped it around his neck. As he twisted the cap off his water bottle, he continued. "Say what you need to say on the mat, understood."

"No," Callen said as he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, "It's not that, Mike." He shook his head as he saw the look of doubt that Mike was trying to conceal "I don't want to talk about it, but I know that I can't file it away and ignore it like I do everything else." He shook his head and smiled wryly, "I don't know where to start. I've never been this," He paused as he considered his wording, the word he decided on, was one that came close to explaining, but not what he was looking for, "Affected before. Nell's in a category all her own."

"Affected?" Mike repeated, very careful not to show his amusement that G. Callen was lovesick over some woman. He realized that Callen would kill him, for thinking that he was lovesick, but at the current moment, that was how Mike interpreted Callen's behavior. "Tell me about Nell. I don't know her that well." He paused, corrected what he said, "I know that somehow, she received Hetty's approval, because she's been an Intelligence Analyst for how long now, years? You and I both know that Intelligence Analysts rub her the wrong way, and are transferred within days or weeks." He paused again, watching Callen take another drink of water. "She seems skittish." Mike stated, before he bluntly asked, "Are you prepared to be with someone so timid? She seems scared of her own shadow. She didn't even want to be alone with you at the boat shed."

Callen smirked at how Mike described Nell, "She isn't as nervous as she, sometimes, comes across. She's actually, one of the most composed and courageous people, I know. Earlier, she was scared of herself, and saw you as an out, a shield, but you left and she had to face not only herself, but me, too."

Unconvinced, Mike said, "So, tell me about this composed and courageous, Nell, that I haven't had the pleasure to meet." Mike took a sip of water and when Callen did not answer, Mike rephrased his question, "Look, I know absolutely nothing about the girl. I can read the file on her alias until I can recite it forward and backward in my sleep while nursing a hangover, but this is her first gig and she's greener than fake grass. She'll be more Nell than Eleanor."

"Fake grass," Callen repeated as he shook his head and twisted the cap back on the bottle of water. "That's the best you got?"

"I'll leave the philosophical quips to Sam." Mike replied, capping his bottle, too. "But that doesn't make what I said any less true. Will I be 'assisting' a shrinking violet or a pyscho Audrey Junior*?"

"Audrey Junior?" Called chuckled at his friend's exaggeration, "She's not a man eating flower, Mike."

"Which makes her the violet," Mike inferred.

"She's not a flower." Callen stated, shaking his head.

"Well, what is she then?" Mike asked.

"Come on," Callen replied as he tilted his head toward the mat, "I'll tell you about her, while I beat your ass."

"Whatever," Mike goaded, "While I beat your ass, you mean."

The two men locked up, Callen quickly got the upper hand, twisting Mike's arm in a wristlock behind his back. "One of the most important thing to know about Nell, is that she's got control issues, pick your battles."

Mike snorted as he reversed the wristlock, placing Callen in his own, as he continued to laugh, he asked, "Control issues?"

"What's so funny?" Callen asked, executing an arm drag, which turned into an arm bar, both men landing on the mat hard.

"Ooof!" Mike exclaimed, upon landing. As he tried to reverse or escape the hold, he answered, "You both have control issues, how is that going to work? I don't see you letting her wear the pants."

Callen tightened the hold.

"Shit!" Mike exclaimed.

"A relationship is an equal partnership." Callen replied, twisting Mike's arm ever so.

"And you know so much about relationships?" Mike retorted drily as he struggled to get out of the hold. "But I could see how some aspects of the relationship when control issues could be fun."

The innuendo triggered something in Callen and he subconsciously tightened the hold to an unbearable and scary grip.

"Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!" Mike exclaimed quickly at the excruciating pain.

Callen immediately let go, realizing that he allowed the sparring session, his anger to go too far. He jumped to his feet and offered Mike a hand up. "Look, I'm sorry; I lost touch with reality there for a moment."

"You think?" Mike sarcastically asked, as he with the opposite hand that had been in the arm bar, took Callen's proffered hand. He knew he risked, Callen losing touch with reality again, but he was a brave man, or stupid, or both, but regardless, he stated. "You love her."

Callen paused; a fleeting look of panic crossed his features, before a look of contemplation replaced it. "I care about her, yes, very much."

"No," Mike stated, shaking his arm, attempting to retrieve feeling. "You love her, you might not realize it yet, but you do, man." He took a step back out of preservation, when he saw the murderous look flash in his best friend's eyes. "Look, deny it, admit it, or ignore it, but it's there and you knew before I said something. Dude, you could have very easily broken my arm over a joking comment that I would have made about anyone, and I, no, we both have joked about the women in our lives. Hell we have rated and compared them, but this one is different, if not, because of my almost broken arm, but because you kissed the girl in front of everyone, you hate public displays of affection, that was like the only thing you ever complained about back when we were partners. You hated using a girl for the greater good and you hated the PDA that came along with it. You can lie to her or yourself, but you can't lie to me, I've known you far too long. I haven't decided whether it's good or bad, but she is different."

"That she is," Callen admitted, his jaw clenched, not liking how Mike had pegged him so soon. Mike knew him as well as Sam, actually knew some things that Sam didn't, but his absence from the team, and lack of interaction with Callen, had made Mike more astute. What did they say about a fresh pair of eyes? Whatever it was, it was true. A look of conflict then surrender crossed Callen's features. "Because I can't just walk away, I have no alias to hide behind. It's going to be me and her; that scares the shit out of me."

"You're just going to have to work harder to make sure that this one works out." Mike replied bravely blunt. "Like I said earlier, I don't know her, but I hope that she's what you want and need. You deserve some happiness, G." He paused, almost reconsidering on what he was about to say, but decided that Callen needed to hear someone else vocalize what he was sure to be thinking, comparing, overanalyzing. "Nell isn't Tracy or Kristen or Macy."

"No, she isn't." Callen agreed tightly, before walking away, leaving Mike standing in the middle of the gym wondering whether he should have brought up Macy. After all, that relationship had ended before it had begun.

* * *

Author's Note: *Audrey Junior (a cross between a butterwort and a Venus Flytrap) is a man eating plant from the 1960 (and 1986) film, "The Little Shop of Horrors," which was nicknamed Audrey Junior by one of the main characters.

**_Thank you all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, and reviews. I appreciate it all._**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

Several hours later, consulting in Ops, the team had hit a roadblock in their plan to infiltrate, The Starship.

"What are you saying?" Callen asked frustrated, at not only, how Deeks had not been able to do one simple thing that he had asked, but also what Mike had said earlier while they had sparred. He had wanted to spar to release his frustration not to add to it.

"My contacts are dead." Deeks repeated for the third time. He confessed. "I was afraid that one or two would be, it's been four years, but _all_ of them? Dude, that's nuts."

"Mister Deeks," Hetty enunciated each word clearly with emphasis, "Let me be clear on this, you are saying that every single one of the men and women, in which you had contact with four years ago, are now dead?"

Deeks sucked in his bottom lip in his mouth and bit down on it as his body tensed. He glanced to the ceiling, before meeting eye contact with Hetty, "Yes," He growled, before taking a deep breath and asking in a defeated sort of tone, "What is so hard to understand? Am I not clear enough? Eddie Brandt's buddies are dead."

"You _are_ a hard individual to understand." Sam quipped, his arms crossed. Sam had not yet approached the club, due to Tara not having anything in wardrobe appropriate for drifter Shawn Samuels in Sam's size. She was remedying that fact, but it would take a few hours to do so.

Deeks shook his head, about to comment, Kensi laid a hand on one of his bicep to prevent him from doing so. She recognized that he was uncharacteristically not in the mood to joke. She looked at Hetty first, before looking around to each of the other five, before she supported her partner and defended his inability to perform the task assigned him, "It has been four years, guys, what we know about Doyle, he doesn't trust many people, and has a high turnover in the lower ranks."

"The lower ranks," Nell muttered as she stopped tapping on her tablet. She looked at Deeks. "You said that Eddie Brandt's buddies are dead, is there anyone that Eddie wasn't buddies with that you'd be able to contact?" She asked, as non-confrontational as possible, as she too, realized that Deeks was quickly getting angry and frustrated, "Possibly a friend of one of Eddie's buddies that was or is higher either at the club or in the, over all, organization?"

"Good question," Callen stated, his lips forming the start of a smirk, and his eyes shining, impressed with her. He looked at Deeks for an answer to her question.

Deeks placed his tongue in between his top lip and top row of teeth. A look of severe frustration crossed his features until a quick look of contemplation then realization replaced it. "Maybe," He answered. He looked at Kensi and tipped his head toward the door. Quickly he walked out of Ops, Kensi followed a look of confusion on her face, but she trusted her partner; just outside the automatic double doors, he turned around and looked at Hetty then Callen, "I'll get back with you when I've got something." He looked at Nell and exclaimed as he held one thumbs up, "You are a rock star!"

Nell smiled, but that smile quickly faltered as the automatic double door reopened before they had quite closed. Assistant Director Granger entered Ops, with a look of sheer anger and determination on his face.

"Agent Callen," Granger barked. "Explain the request for the loan of Agent Renko, a Senior Agent of a different team, to your team."

Just as Callen was about to explain in detail, where he would like Granger to go, Hetty intervened. She demanded in a murderous tone, "Owen, if you have an issue with Agent Renko returning to Agent Callen's team, you will direct that order to me."

Granger's eyes left Callen to land on Hetty whose mouth formed into a severe stern line, wrinkles around her mouth made the line more pronounced, and her eyes slanted opened just so, a look of challenge deep within them; intimidated by the smaller in stature woman, his gaze left her to land on each of the others.

Callen narrowed his eyes at Granger then Hetty as he crossed his arms.

Eric openly glared at Granger. That glare faltered for a moment when Granger's gaze landed upon him, but quickly and insubordinately the glare returned. He felt stronger and braver in defying Granger with the team around him, because he knew that they would support him. Furthermore, getting rid of Granger was now near the top of Eric's list of priorities, just under Operation Nallen, as he had come to think of the upcoming Op with the team infiltrating Doyle's terrorist operation. Nell would hurt him if she ever found out about his personal nickname for the Op, but when he was successful of finding the advantage against Granger, finally to exile him from their radius, Eric knew that she would not.

Sam uncrossed his arms and placed his balled fists to his side. A look of concentration and resentment on his face, his gaze zeroed in on Granger, offering a look of his own challenge to Granger, when their eyes met. Moments like this, is when and why Sam, regretted not shooting him when he had the chance. If he could do over, he would have defied his partner's order not to shoot. It would have been worth the paper work and documentation smear against his stellar clear record.

Mike crossed his arms and looked at Granger as if he had not a care in the world. He found it amusing that he was about to be fought over, especially when Granger, months ago, had made it known that he was not impressed with him. Ironically, they had gotten on as well as a smart-aleck Senior Agent and an arrogant Assistant Director could, until Granger had found out that he had previously been Callen's partner. Afterward, the only thing that Mike received from Granger was disdain.

Granger narrowed his eyes, as his eyes landed upon Mike, Mike half-smirked and half-grinned as he arched an eyebrow.

"Hetty," Granger stated, frustration clear in his voice, "Why was Agent Renko requested for this Op? Are five field agents not enough to infiltrate a terrorist organization, when in several past operations, only one has sufficed?"

"Nell is not a Field Agent." Callen interjected, needlessly as both that fact and his opinion were known.

"Mister Callen, do be quiet," Hetty casually ordered, her patience wearing thin. Everyone, including Callen and Granger, had the same look of a double take across their features, though the animations of those double takes varied. She continued, firmly, "Owen, I, as the OSP Supervisor can request anyone or thing from any of the teams and the large support staff that are under my command. If I fancy it, Mike Renko will become a permanent fixture on Team Callen!"

"Be as that may," Granger agreed, before he arrogantly declared, "I, as Assistant Director of NCIS, can overrule your decision."

Highly amused with the interaction between Hetty and Granger, Mike whispered quietly to Sam, whom was to his left, "Do they have pissing contests often?"

Sam grinned and subtly nodded his head.

Callen, whom was to Mike's right, heard what Mike had asked. Callen smirked as he whispered, "Yep. All the time."

Hetty slowly turned her head to look at the three Agents, her eyes smiled amused at the three of them, reminding her of times three years ago, before Renko was transferred to a different team. However, the amusement she held was not detectable in her voice as she asked, "Gentlemen, do you have anything to share with the class?"

"No." Sam replied, immediately, though still grinning.

"Nope," Mike replied, inwardly berating himself for not remembering Hetty's super sense of hearing.

"Yes," Callen replied, as he knew something the others, especially Granger, did not. "I was referring to the pissing matches that Granger subjects you to." Before Callen could continue, Hetty interrupted him.

"Really, Mister Callen," Hetty stated, amusement, and irony lightly lacing her tone of voice. She successfully fought a smile. "I highly doubt that you are the perfect candidate to say such things as you, my dear, are just as guilty, if not more, than I am."

"True," Callen conceded, but he continued, stating what he would had Hetty not interrupted him, "What I was about to say before you asked for show and tell, was that you normally wins those pissing contests."

"Not this one, Agent Callen." Granger declared frustration clear as he remembered all the times that Hetty, mostly through Team Callen, had foiled his plans.

"Oh, but, this one, too," Callen smartly admitted, "I knew you would have an issue with a request that would assist us in bringing down the Doyle organization."

Granger, feeling that his plan was quickly being thwarted, before it had truly began, he asked for clarification, hoping that he misunderstood what he believed Callen to have realized, "What are you suggesting?"

"Gentlemen," Hetty exclaimed, tiring of their on-going pissing match, "What Mister Callen is suggesting is that from past experiences and interactions of you and his team, he feels that,"

Callen interrupted her, "He feels that he doesn't trust you."

Hetty shook her head; her eyes looked to the ceiling, as she brought her hands to waist level out in front of her, and made a small gesture of surrender mixed with flabbergasting frustration. She sat in Nell's vacant chair, as the Analyst stood beside the screen a few feet from Eric. Hetty classily crossed her legs, placed an elbow on the armrest, and placed her thumb under the side of her jaw, her index finger rested against her jaw, the tip of her finger touching the earpiece of her spectacles. "Go ahead, Mister Callen, the floor is yours."

Eric, Nell, Sam, and Mike shared deep looks of shock and concern.

Callen glanced at Hetty quickly, before returning his gaze to Granger, "After Hetty and I spoke to Vance earlier over the phone, he approved the request for Mike to join the Op, which means that you cannot overrule the decision."

"Leon approved this?" Granger growled, unhappy that they had involved the Director. "You disrespected the chain of command! You are to report to me, not the Director."

"Yes, I went over your head," Callen answered insubordinately. "I report to Hetty not you. It is no secret that I distrust you, but you forcing one of my Analysts into the role of Field Agent without the necessary training, makes me question anything and everything that comes out of your mouth and office. I haven't figured out what your angle is, quite yet, but I will."

"Miss Jones is not one of your Analysts, Mister Callen." Granger replied snootily, "She is one of NCIS's and is assigned to the Office of Special Projects."

"She is assigned to my team." Callen interjected strongly, "Which makes her one of mine. My team, which includes Mike whether officially or not, take care of its own."

"Never leave a man or woman behind." Sam declared, supporting what Callen had said.

"Ditto," Mike agreed.

"I am glad to hear that you realize that Miss Jones is assigned to your team, under your direct command." He smirked, his eyes full of mischief, he continued dryly, "After all, we wouldn't want something to change the dynamic of Team Callen, now would we?"

Hetty sat straighter in her chair as she immediately understood what Granger truly meant, but as she had given the floor to Callen, she stayed silent, plotting, and planning the demise of Granger's career.

Something clicked in Callen's mind and he became livid, his eyes narrowed into slits, his jaw clenched, his body tensed, his mouth slightly opened in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

Sam sensing that something had happened within his partner, he stood straighter and looked at Granger then Callen, "What? What's the matter, G?"

Mike shook his head, as he too, had understood the veiled threat. Seeing as neither Granger nor Callen was close to offering an answer, Mike answered Sam's question, "Assistant Director, Granger," Mike sarcastically said his full title to prevent Granger from boastfully reminding him of his rank. "Just threatened to change the dynamic of Team Callen, which means he plans to transfer members which would effectively disband Team Callen."

"What?" Eric exclaimed loudly for clarification.

"You can't be serious," Callen stated, ignoring the others, focusing solely on Granger, "_You_ are sending us undercover as man and wife to apprehend the head of a terrorist organization whose profile clearly shows that, in order for me, to gain entry in to his organization that I must provide him his favourite entertainment. Entertainment that he will demand of me and my wife as one of the only things that he holds sacred are marriage vows."

Nell was confused, as how it had, but what had originated in a battle over Agent Renko had quickly turned into one over her. "Um," she interrupted, highly uncomfortable. From what Deeks had carelessly told her earlier about the club and what Callen had said about the Op to both Hetty and Granger attempting to prevent her from becoming actively involved in the field, she had concluded that at some point she and Callen would be required to be intimate. However, hearing how Callen spoke about 'entertainment' as man and wife, she realized that the intimacy would require more than foreplay. Upon realizing the expectation, and filing it away to ponder on later, at a more opportune time, she startling realized what Granger referred to as changing the dynamic, his veiled threat to transfer certain members.

All eyes were on her, some patiently, others intolerantly waiting on her to continue onward with what she had interrupted to say.

She cleared her throat, stood straighter, squared her shoulders, glanced at Callen quickly though not meeting eye contact, and stepped forward toward Granger. "Assistant Director, for the record, I am not under Agent Callen's direct command. I am a NCIS Analyst whom reports to Supervisory Special Agent, NCIS Office of Special Projects Operations Manager Hetty Lange." She arched an eyebrow in challenge, her mouth forming the start of a smirk, before she innocently added. "However there is no such rule, provision, or policy preventing a Field Agent, regardless of their rank." She almost faltered the intense Callen now subjected her. "And a member of the Support Staff, which an Analyst is considered, although more often than not, tip-toe the borderline, as they are as intrically woven into the field as a Field Agent, sometimes more." She rambled on as she felt and saw Callen smirking, staring at her with an arched eyebrow, observing her, figuring her out, as if he could see right into her soul, through her barriers to her secrets. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "As I was saying there's no such rule, hypothetically, of course, to prevent Callen and myself from becoming physically, emotionally, or romantically involved. Seeing as there is no such rule, no such disciplinary action would be inflicted on either Callen or me, or the team as a whole."

Her interruption, her rambling speech, had left them speechless, though each for different reasons.

Owen Granger was astounded. He had severely underestimated the young Intelligence Analyst. He, now, feared that by pairing her with Agent Callen, he had prematurely began his ulterior motives, that he had paired two of his most challenging foes together into one unit. There was no doubt that he would have to regroup, to think of something else. Abruptly, he left Ops without another word or indication.

Hetty was speechless, because Nell had successfully shot down and shut up Owen. Unfortunately, not many were able to do so.

Eric was dumbstruck, because Nell, again, had targeted what could be an issue in a relationship with Callen.

Sam was flabbergasted at the lengths that Granger would go to disrupt their team, shocked that little Nell Jones had thrown Granger a curve ball, glad that what she had said, had successfully, although temporarily, rid them of Granger.

Mike was surprised, because the timid flower that he had thought she was, had proven to be an illusion. Callen had been right. She was a courageous woman; she had to be, in order to stand up to, correct, and on the verge of challenging Granger. However, Mike still believed that she had more to prove to him, before he would be at ease where it concerned her and his best friend.

Callen had known that there was no such rule, not that he had investigated it himself, but because of his friend, Leroy Jethro Gibbs had made it a personal rule of his own, to never get involved with a co-worker; it was his rule number 12, because NCIS had not a rule for it. He was both stunned and pleased that she had, felt the need to investigate the inconvenient policy that most all Government Agencies had. It only added to the proof of what Eric had cleverly revealed to him.

Nell Jones wanted a relationship with him; why else would she have researched and sought a rule on interoffice dating? He wanted one with her, too, but it had to wait until after the Op, not because Hetty had ordered it so, but because he believed he could not juggle a relationship between both their aliases and themselves.

However, out of survival, one must do things that previously thought they could not, were not capable of doing. Sometimes, there are permanent repercussions, because of the choices one makes. Some repercussions are welcomed, even looked forward to; others are wished to disappear, to have never have materialized, to never have happened.

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**_Thank you all so much for your readership, alerts, favorites, and reviews. I appreciate it all._**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

Meanwhile, Deeks placed his tongue in between his top lip and top row of teeth. A look of severe frustration crossed his features until a quick look of contemplation then realization replaced it. "Maybe," He answered. He looked at Kensi and tipped his head toward the door. Quickly he walked out of Ops, Kensi followed a look of confusion on her face, but she trusted her partner; just outside the automatic double doors, he turned around and looked at Hetty then Callen, "I'll get back with you when I've got something." He looked at Nell and exclaimed as he held one thumbs up, "You are a rock star!"

As he and Kensi walked down the hallway, they immediately saw Assistant Director Granger briskly walking toward them, then past them without indication that he had seen them. Deeks turned around to see where Granger was going. When he saw Granger enter Ops, Deeks glanced at Kensi, and they shared a meaningful look, "That can't be good," He stated, before he asked, "Do you think we should go back?"

"Nah," She replied, not wanting to deal with Granger, if she did not have to. She had faith that the team would handle Granger with or without them, "They can handle him. Let's focus on finding whoever it is that we're going to find. You've got someone in mind, right?"

"Of course," He replied with a mischievous grin, "But I've got to drive, Princess. Aintin Sorcha lives in an area that you and your driving skills are unfamiliar with"

She sputtered, "Wh-wh-what? My driving skills are spectacular."

"Ri-i-ght," Deeks agreed, sarcastically. His blue eyes pierced her brown as he extended his hand out in the air, palm upward, expectantly. "Give me the keys, sugar bear."

She looked away from his expectant gaze and stubbornly stared at his palm for several seconds, before she rolled her eyes and sighed. Reluctantly she dropped the keys in his palm.

He grinned as he dangled the keys beside his head, teasingly at Kensi, "Now was that so hard, Kens?"

His grin fell and he exclaimed in pain, when she legitimately punched him in the bicep before walking away, her destination the parking lot.

While Kensi and Deeks searched out the aunt of one of Eddie's friends, Callen consulted Tara, or rather; Tara consulted alternatingly him and Sam, on their wardrobes. Hetty was in her office, taking calls, making calls, and vetting candidates temporarily to replace Nell, though Hetty feared she would have to settle for another tech to assist Eric instead of an Intelligence Analyst, as she had not the patience to break in a new Analyst. They had been extremely lucky when they had acquired, Nell Jones. She had been and still was a hot commodity and asset.

Mike had stayed in Ops after the team consultation. As Eric and Nell tied up the loose ends of backstories and investigating the Doyle organization further, Mike read over what Eric had complied thus far including what the FBI and JAG had sent. A little after an hour of reading material on a tablet, Mike was still not close to finished; there had to be several years' worth of material in the file; there was, at least a decade. He rubbed his eyes, because after reading nonstop without a break for that hour, his eyes strained to see clearly. He hated paper work whether it actual paper or digitalized. He would prefer to be in and stay in the field, a trait that he shared with Callen. Years ago, there had been an office pool on whose inbox was the most behind, who would first be verbally reprimanded by Hetty then Macy before he and Macy had been transferred in the summer of 2009, after Callen had been shot five times; when Hetty had been reassigned to OSP. It was not that either man was incompetent, lazy, or even procrastinating, on the contrary, it was that they craved action; preferred to be in the field than at a desk for even the little time it would take to finalize the paper work had they kept up with it.

The prepping stage of a long term Operation was always what he dreaded, because more often than not, there was much office work whether it paper work or simply waiting. He hated the waiting. He wanted the Op to start, because then he would not feel as helpless or restless. He would feel more in control, once an Op began, even though he might not be the one with the actual control. Yes, Mike Renko had an inner control freak that peaked out occasionally, but mainly, especially around Callen, it stayed dormant, because Callen was always in control of a situation, even when it seemed he did not. It was easier to allow Callen to take control than argue or fight with him.

"So," Mike broke the awkward silence that had fallen. He realized that he was the cause, because Eric was a multi-tasking talker. He talked while he worked and what he had heard of Nell, she was a talker, too. He almost felt sorry for Eric for being placed in the middle, though Mike could not understand why Nell was now giving him the cold shoulder. She had done a 180 degree turn in her interaction with him compared to earlier at the boat shed. When Eric looked at him and Nell continued to work, Mike asked, "Why does Granger have it in for Team Callen?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Eric replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"He is intimidated," Nell replied simply as she continued to read and log information.

"What?" Mike asked, not understanding how or why an Assistant Director of an Agency could feel threatened by a team of Field Agents and a couple of Support Staff, no matter how excellent those individuals were.

"Actually, I believe that he is intimidated by Hetty," Nell corrected and elaborated. She stopped working, swiveled her chair so that she looked at Mike as she talked with her hands, a nervous tick of hers that she could control, most of the time, this was not one of those times. Mike unnerved her, because he was mostly unknown to her, but he knew everything about the team, except for her, or perhaps even she, Nell was uncertain. It even appeared that he knew about Deeks, someone who had joined Team Callen long after Mike had transferred. Nell felt like the odd one out and she hated that feeling. It did not help that she had noticed the antagonist vibes that he sent her since he had returned from sparring with Callen. "Look, Granger knows that whatever happens with Hetty, Callen won't be far behind, he has her back, where Callen is, the team is." She paused, considering her words, "It's a chain reaction that Granger knows will happen, which is why he wants to separate the team, he believes if he divides the team, he'll conquer, Hetty, but it doesn't work that way. Granger does not understand the loyalty we have for Hetty, Callen, for each other. If he were to separate the team, it will only end worse for him, because the determination to unite against him, will ever be stronger. As you can attest, you've been gone from Team Callen, how long, and still considered Team Callen? I've been here close to three years; you were assigned elsewhere when I came on board." Nell paused, again, though in realization of something that she had subconsciously considered, but had never vocalized, "Team Callen, isn't a team, it's a family."

"How true," Mike agreed. He glanced at his watch; it was nearing three o'clock. "Hey, Eric how about you take a break, get lunch, coffee, Oreos, or something? You've been going non-stop for hours."

Eric pursed his lips and twitched them to the right as he, out of the corner, of his eye glanced at Nell whom had returned to logging information, before his eyes landed on Mike, his brow furrowed, undecided whether to take the offer than he really wanted to, he was hungry and thirsty. Hetty's rule about no food or beverages in Ops was torture some days. Apprehensively, he smiled, "Sure," He answered as he stood. "I'll be back in thirty."

"Nah, man," Mike replied, just as Eric stepped in front of the automatic double doors, "Take your time, after all, this is probably the only break you're going to get today."

Eric nodded as he left. Once the doors had closed, Mike settled his eyes upon the back of Nell's head, and asked genuinely interested. "So, Nell, are you prepared for your first field work assignment?"

Nell trailed her tongue across the roof of her mouth, her lips parted as she chuckled in disbelief that he attempted small talk, she bitingly retorted, "It won't be my first time in the field."

Sardonically he replied, "Really, how'd those field trips go for you? Ever need a 'personal assistant' during 'em before?"

She flinched and he felt not one ounce of regret. What he had observed in the short time that he had been around the team, as the team prepared for the upcoming Op, was that every member of Team Callen, including Hetty and Callen, more so they, had sugar coated the reality that she would face during the Op in the attempt to protect her. He felt that the wool needed to be pulled from her eyes now, before she entered the field so not to freak the young girl out or put her in unnecessary danger. She continued to work and ignored him successfully for fifteen minutes while he tried to engage and taunt her into small talk.

"So, looking forward to playing house with Callen?" He asked, knowing that it would finally get a response out of her. He felt bad for targeting whatever feelings she held for his friend, but he needed to test her, see what her boundaries truly were, because in the field, those boundaries constantly were tested.

"Stop being a jerk." She stated through clenched teeth, "Neither you or Callen need to be jerks to me. I understand that I'm not the best candidate to go out in the field, but I can't help that I am going. I don't have any misconceptions about my ability. I will be the weakest link in the Operation and that both angers and frustrates me. I am used to being the best at what I do, but out there, I will be the worst, so please do not insult my intelligence by mocking or taunting me. Because they have assigned you my bodyguard, yes, I am not as stupid to believe that you will simply be a personal assistant, we need to at least act like we like or at least tolerate each other, if not for anything else, but for Callen, because he sees you as a brother and I am one of his friends. I have no problem with you other than your need to belittle me and bad vibes you have sent me the past few hours. I don't know what I've done to you, but whatever it is, I apologize now for it. Let us both be professional about this and approach this Op as we would any other, except any other Op, I would stay here with Eric."

"Sweetheart," He drawled, as he arched an eyebrow, impressed with her. "I am not being a jerk to be a jerk. For some reason, your team believes you incapable of what has been assigned you. They're sugar coating what's going to be expected out of you. _You_ are going to be in danger every second of every day. _You_ are going to be under scrutiny. _You_ are going to have to do things that you'd never thought you'd have to do. Are _you_ prepared to hurt or kill someone?"

She did not respond for several minutes and he allowed her to mull over it, because it was a key question that he needed an answer.

"What does that have anything to do with anything?" She asked, although she had secretly thought about his question several times since joining NCIS.

"Everything, you're going to be in every sense of the word, Callen's partner, I'm there as your back up. At times, it's going to seem like a three-way partnership, but it all comes down to you, what you will be able to handle, because Callen and I've got this, it's just another high stakes Op." He replied, "I need to know that if I'm not there, if Callen is not there, that you will be able to protect yourself. That if something happens to either of us, that you will get out alive. That if there is a choice between you or us, that you'll always choose yourself. Always have at least two back-up plans to your back-up plan. What can go wrong in the field normally goes wrong, especially in long term Ops such as this one, we're not playing with some smalltime drug dealer or even a Mom and Pop arms dealer, Doyle is an international terrorist who has connections into every Government, including our own. One slip of the tongue or wrong action and you're burned, once you're burned, you're screwed, once you're screwed, you're injured or dead."

She blinked several times throughout his response, but he gave her credit for not flinching. She cleared her throat and firmly answered, "I can't guarantee that I'll always make the right decision, that I will do everything perfect to your standards or even Callen's or Hetty's, but I can guarantee that I will not intentionally do anything that will jeopardize the safety of either you or Callen, or Sam, or Kensi and Deeks. I can protect myself. I am acceptable at both practical and tactical defense and I know my way around a firearm."

He nodded, though not completely persuaded that she could protect herself. He stated, "You seem to be a smart chick, from what I heard the smartest that Callen has ever met, and he's met some smart ones. Apparently, you're smarter than Tracy…" As soon as he had said the name of Callen's ex-wife, Nell immediately interrupted him.

"You know about Tracy?" Nell asked, though the tone of her voice was lower than it had been, but higher when she spoke the name, Tracy.

"Nell," He sighed not wanting to betray Callen's trust, but he felt that he needed to answer her question. He settled for a veiled truth, "I knew about Tracy years before that ridiculous stunt she pulled at the Naval Recruitment Center."

"Oh," She quietly murmured as she quietly analyzed what that meant.

He rubbed his right hand over his face, before he said, "Nell look at me," When she finally did, he continued both firmly and seriously as he held steady eye contact with her, "Don't be like Tracy. Don't break his heart."

She blinked, opened her mouth, and closed it several times, but just as she was about to retort, the automatic double doors opened, and she refrained from countering.

Eric looked back and forth between his best friend and a man he considered a brother. He knew before he had left that there would be things said, but he had not realized that the atmosphere would feel several degrees colder than it had before he left.

"It's not been thirty minutes," Mike stated.

"No, twenty-four actually," Eric replied, before his blue eyes settled on Nell, "You okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She answered a tight smile on her face.

Eric studied her for a moment before he looked at Mike, "Tara is ready for you, but if I were you, don't mention Sam, because she is highly peeved at him."

Mike's brow furrowed, "What did he do?"

"Long story," Eric replied as he sat in his chair.

"Give me the short version." Mike stated. "So that whatever it was that he did, I don't do it."

"That won't be a problem," Eric assured, "Unless, of course, your role in the Op has changed."

"What do you mean by role in the Op?" Nell asked, before Mike could ask for clarification.

"Well," Eric stated, balancing a pen between two fingers, "Deeks called Callen, said something about it would be fruitless for Sam to try to infiltrate the staff of the Starship, so they went with plan B."

"What's plan B?" Nell asked, because to her knowledge there was not a plan b, although both Callen and Sam were pros at working on the fly, creating plan after plan, when plans failed one after the other.

"Sam is going in as Callen's Chief of Staff and personal bodyguard." Eric replied. "Which means a different wardrobe is needed for bodyguard Shawn Samuels than drifter bartender Shawn Samuels. Tara's peeved, because she spent better part of the day arranging for bartender Shawn's wardrobe, because she didn't have anything appropriate to fit Sam. So," He drawled, "I would totally make sure that I was going in as a personal assistant or whatever, before I got to Tara. 'Cause Tara's scary." He paused, as if suddenly remembering something; he ignored Mike's laughter, and looked at Nell as he told her, "Oh, and when I first went to lunch, Callen told me to tell you to find him once I got back. Him and Sam are supposed to brief you on something." He glanced at Mike who was laughing so hard he was holding his abdomen. Confused, Eric asked, "What is so funny?"

Mike laughed, "Tara's five-one and buck twenty soaking wet, dude. She's as dangerous as a fly near a fly trap"

A look of terror crossed Eric's face as he glanced at Nell, his eyes widening and his lips pursing, then back to an amused Mike.

Nell arched an eyebrow and stood, her good hand on her hip, her wounded wrist resting against her abdomen, as she verbally challenged Mike, "Is that supposed to be some sort of a short joke? Because I assure you that myself and Hetty are quite dangerous even though we are more vertically challenged than most."

"Tara is no Hetty." Mike retorted as he continued to laugh.

Nell blinked and clenched her jaw as she exited Ops. Eric furrowed his brow at Nell's name omitted from what Mike said. Nell had realized that no matter what she had said to Mike about her being able to protect herself he would not believe her. He thought her to be a helpless damsel in distress waiting to happen. She was not sure what angered her most; that Mike had confirmed his opinion of her or the insinuation that Callen shared that opinion.

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**Author's Note**: The start of the Op is approaching. Thank you all for your readership, alerts, favourites, reviews, and patience. I appreciate it all!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Ay, Tara," Sam exclaimed in a pleading sort of tone with his arms extended in a surrender gesture as the Wardrobe Coordinator passed the bullpen with a look mixed with determination and irritation on her face, "It ain't my fault, sweetheart."

As Callen sat his desk, he signed his alias's name on several forms while he sniggered. He arched his right eyebrow in amusement as he glanced ever so often to watch Sam stand in the middle of the bullpen and apologize for the misunderstanding concerning his wardrobe.

Sam shot him a look that was supposed to have made him stop sniggering, but it only caused him to snigger louder. Sam rolled his eyes as he walked to his desk and sat in his chair. He leaned back and shook his head, "Go ahead, G, laugh it up, but you aren't the one that's going to be wearing clothes a half a size too small." He leaned forward and loudly whispered in a nasally voice, "Just a twinge too small in some places, causes lots of _issues_, man."

Callen shook his head and grinned.

Sam narrowed his eyes and said, "That's wrong, G, so wrong, a man does not laugh at another man's _issues_. That's against both the guy and partner code."

"Sam," Callen said, but had to pause to gain control of his laughter. "I'm not laughing at your issues, man, I promise." He laughed again, before suddenly his face became serious, no trace of laughter left, and he stated as serious as he could, "When you use your nasally whisper it reminds me of Ms. Eleanor."

Sam glared, as he pouted not appreciating the comparison to his loveable, but busybody Great Aunt.

Callen started laughing again as he leaned back in his chair tilting the swivel chair as far back as it would go. He pointed at the sour look that Sam gave him, "Now that reminds me of your daughter," He looked toward wardrobe, and loudly in between laughs, hollered, "Hey, Tara give the big guy a break," Callen grinned at the look Tara sent Sam, "Come on, for me?" He placed his hands on his heart as he continued to grin, "I'm the one going to be stuck with sulk face."

Tara nodded as she once again glared at Sam before she went to the back of wardrobe, out of sight of the bullpen, which made Sam throw his hands up in the air, "She acts as if I did this on purpose. How was I supposed to know that Doyle no longer hires regular Joes?"

Callen shrugged as he continued to grin, the amusement sparkled in his blue eyes, "My opinion is that she likes you and doesn't know how to approach you. One minute you're a cuddly teddy bear the next a raging Grizzly."

Sam arched an eyebrow, smiled ironically, and said in a singsong voice, "Hello pot, my name is kettle; it is very nice to meet you…again."

Callen glared, before he meaningfully said, "Hey, Nell."

Sam gave him a look that they would continue this later. He smiled and turned around to greet Nell, but seeing her tense body language as she walked down the final two steps, his smile faltered.

Callen sat straight in his chair and his brow furrowed as he registered that Nell was angry. Angrier than when he had messed with her while they had talked with Hetty, and he knew that she was furious with him for taking such liberties in front of Hetty, though besides anger there was another emotion in her eyes that Callen could not place. He asked concerned, "What happened?"

She forced a smile that made her look even more furious, she answered tightly, "Nothing that I can't take care of, Eric said for me to find you, that you and Sam would brief me on something."

Sam shot Callen a confused look as to ask what briefing.

Callen returned the look with on that said to go along.

Sam subtly nodded.

"Well?" Nell asked, her right eyebrow arched, her arms in front of her, her unharmed hand holding her opposite elbow.

Callen stood and walked around his desk. He stopped in front of her and nodded his head toward wardrobe, "We've got to get you an outfit for our meeting with the realtor tomorrow. We have two decoy houses set up to look at tomorrow and one on Thursday. Thursday is the one beside Doyle's estate. Wednesday, you have a field readiness evaluation."

"So, we're going shopping?" Nell asked; her voice perked up at the thought of leaving the office, leaving thoughts of both Granger and Mike behind. She was not concerned with the realtor or the houses as those were simply means to an end to start the Op. She had never failed a test so she was not worried about the evaluation; she knew the basics and excelled at them.

"No," Callen said, drawing the word out, his brow furrowed, confused at Nell's behavior, he continued slowly as if the answer should be obvious, "We're going to wardrobe."

"Okay," Nell replied, glancing at the staircase behind her. Sam and Callen shared a look that had Sam questioning what was wrong and Callen not knowing what it was. She stated quickly, "Come on, let's go, we've got to hurry."

"Hurry?" Callen asked, but once he saw Mike start walking down the stairs, Callen closed his eyes in realization. "What did he say?"

"Hmm?" Nell asked innocently. "Who?"

"Nell," Callen stated impatiently, "Save us all the time and stop playing that game. What did Mike do or say? Eric was supposed to tell Mike to go to wardrobe for his fitting. You don't want to go to wardrobe; it doesn't take a genius to realize that something happened."

Nell inhaled deeply and set her jaw in defiance, "Nothing happened that I can't handle."

Callen pursed his lips in irritation, before calling out to Mike, "Hey, come here."

Nell's eyes widened and looked at Sam as if he would help her.

Sam gave her a weak smile as if to say that she was on her own.

Nell rolled her eyes.

"What'd you need?" Mike asked as he stopped directly beside Nell.

Nell exhaled and forced another smile.

"What did you say to her?" Callen bluntly asked.

Mike dryly chucked, "I should have known."

"Known what?" Callen asked.

"For the record, I did not go running to him." Nell growled, realizing what Mike referred to knowing.

"You did say something to her," Callen stated in disappointment, he had not wanted to think that Mike had done anything, but he knew Mike.

"Mike," Sam stated, "Just tell him what you said, please; it'll save everyone a lot of time, and me a headache."

"I am not a damsel in distress waiting to happen!" Nell exclaimed quietly in a strained voice.

Sam's eyes threatened to pop out of his head; his lips forming a small o, as he softly whispered and crossed his arms, sitting back in his chair.

Callen tilted his head and focused his attention solely on Nell, "You aren't what?"

"I did not say that," Mike stated, recognizing the early warning signs of a Callen meltdown.

"What _did_ you say to her?" Callen repeated his earlier question without looking at him, still focusing his attention on Nell. Stubbornly, she refused to look away from the intense look Callen gave her, although she very much wanted to.

"All I did was made her realize the severity of the Op." Mike answered.

"That did not answer my question," Callen stated as he looked away from Nell to Mike.

"Look, man, she needs to understand that," Mike firmly shut his mouth and looked straight ahead, as Callen interrupted him.

"No," Callen stated holding up a hand to stop Mike, Callen looked at Nell who was glaring at Mike, "Nell," She reluctantly looked at him, he continued, "Go to wardrobe, Tara already has a few outfits for you to try on, I'll be there in a minute."

Nell narrowed her eyes at him before turning on her heel and doing what he said, because that got her away from Mike. Once she was out of hearing range, Callen looked at Mike, took three steps toward him, only a few inches separated them, Mike met eye contact and refused to step back by doing so he non-verbally challenged Callen.

"Mike, you need to understand that whatever Nell needs to understand, she'll hear it from me." Callen again cut off what Mike was about to say, "You will not undermine her or tell her things that she is best off not knowing."

"Like what?" Mike challenged, arching his right eyebrow.

Sam placed his arms between the two men and separated them. Neither Callen nor Mike had seen or heard Sam approach them.

"You two will play nice, you're friends, and whatever happened with Nell does not and will not affect that friendship." Sam mediated and spoke as if he was talking to his daughter and one of her friends, "But, Mike, we need to know what you said, so that Callen can fix it."

"I told you, I made sure she knew the severity of the Operation, I questioned whether or not she could handle it, would she be able to protect herself." Mike truthfully answered.

"No," Callen said, tilting his head to the right as he watched Nell talk to Tara. "Something else was said, it was how she looked at me, like she was mad at the both of us instead of only you," He paused as he realized what other emotion he had seen in her eyes, "As if she was disappointed in me. What did you tell her about me?"

"Noth-" Mike tried to say nothing, but Callen interrupted him.

"Mike." Callen growled, "I see you as a brother, but I swear to God, if you aren't straight with me, right now, I'm going to kick your ass and finish breaking your arm."

"I told her not to be like Tracy," Mike admitted, Callen made a protesting sound in disbelief, but Mike continued regardless of Callen's attempt to interrupt him, "And I might have implied that you share my opinion that she won't be able to protect herself."

"You what?" Callen exclaimed, he took a deep calming breath and closed his eyes, but neither stress relieving trick worked. "Sam," He growled as he motioned toward Mike, "Do something with him, but make sure he doesn't go to wardrobe until after Nell has left it!"

"Where are you going, G?" Sam asked as Callen walked away.

"I'm going to try to fix what he broke!" Callen replied, angry with Mike for overstepping his bounds, for hurting Nell, regardless of what his intentions were.

"I didn't break anything," Mike told Sam exasperated at Callen's behaviour. "I didn't hurt her; I pissed her off."

"Man," Sam said in a regretful tone, "You did both, by trying to help her, protect her, you might have broken the trust she has for Callen." Sam sighed, "She has to trust Callen for any of the Op to work. If she does not trust that he trusts her, how is she supposed to trust her body or life with him?"

Mike exclaimed an obscenity as he placed his palms on Kensi's desk and balanced his weight unto them. "I might have been too harsh on her, but Sam, if she can't handle what one of us does or says, how is she going to handle what the other side will dish out?"

"I've known Nell for a while, Mike," Sam stated, half leaning, half sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed, "And I have faith in her. She is tougher than what she looks. She really is a capable person and an excellent Analyst. Is she the best in the field, no, but everyone starts somewhere. She is mini-Hetty, dude, perhaps not _as_ dangerous, but close as it gets, I think that if we were around when Hetty was young, we'd see how much Nell is like her. It was unreal last year when Hetty was healing from her gunshot wound, Hunter was the acting Operations Manager, but Nell was the one that truly managed the office."

"So, honestly," Mike stated as he mimicked Sam's pose, though leaning against Kensi's desk instead, "Do you think that she could hold her own against someone?"

Sam hesitated. Mike pointed an I-thought-so look at him. After thinking it over, Sam answered, "I think that she could outwit most any day. If it got physical, I don't know, but what I do know is that the sorry son of a bitch wrote and signed his death warrant once they touched her, because G. will kill him, and if that is if me, Kensi, Deeks, or you don't get there first. It might be a great idea for you to drop this, whatever it is, that you have about Nell being able to cope whether mentally or physically with this Op; let Callen worry about it." He paused, considering how to word, his confession, "There are very true reservations that everyone, including Callen, has about Nell going in the field, but that's why they brought you in, man; an extra person to stand between them and her. If we all do our jobs, she won't ever be in danger of finding out exactly what she can and can't handle."

Mike could not argue with what Sam said, but he was prevented from asking another question by Hetty's voice.

"Oh, Mister Hanna!" Hetty called out, her voice travelling to the bullpen from her office. "I do believe it is tea time."

Mike raised his eyebrows, smiled, and motioned his hands toward Hetty's office. He found it amusing that Sam still reacted the same to Hetty's declaration of tea time.

Sam slightly grimaced before he plastered a smile on his face. He took a step and paused, glancing over his shoulder at Mike, Sam ordered, "Whatever you do, do not go to wardrobe until you see Nell leave it."

Mike nodded as he continued to smile, "Sure, I don't want to agitate Callen right now, I like my arm and ass the way it is, thank you very much."

Sam nodded and walked reluctantly to Hetty's office. Even after seven years of working with her, Sam still hated tea, but he drinks it anyway, because it is Hetty, after all.

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**Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed; individual review replies will be sent out this weekend. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favourites, reviews, and constructive criticism. Quick question, though, do y'all prefer chapters with a length of 2000-2500 words that are quickly updated or 3000-4000+ words that are updated every 2-4 days? Just curious, because I'm working on a schedule to post this story, and would like your input on which you like more. :-)**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Hello, thank you for reading! I hope that this chapter makes up for the lack of Nallen-y goodness in the past few chapters.**

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**Chapter Fifteen**

The farther away from Mike and the closer Callen got to Nell the more he was able to think clearer. He was still upset and disappointed in his friend, but not as murderously so. Tara glanced at him, from her spot at one of her top of the line, sewing machines, and quickly looked back down to her task. She had heard the argument between him and Mike, most everyone within seeing distance of the bullpen had. However, she knew better than to comment on it.

"Which one is Nell in?" Callen asked Tara, remnants of his anger making his voice rougher and rawer than he intended.

She pointed to the small fitting room on the far right. When the OSP had moved to the mission, one twelve by twelve room was reconstructed into three fittings rooms that each measured four feet by four feet with a door that opened outward. Callen walked toward the indicated door and lightly knocked on it. There was no answer. Worried he tried the handle of the doorknob and when it turned indicating that it was not locked he opened the door just enough to silently step inside. The image in the full-length mirror on the wall took his breath. He knew Nell was beautiful, but seeing her like this made him realize that she was stunning; she wore a deep chocolate brown form fitting sleeveless dress that ended four inches above her knees. She was barefoot and the back of her dress was unzipped to the small of her back revealing the smooth alabaster skin.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the door. The room was small and she was sure to realize that she was no longer alone soon. The mirror that encased the opposite wall had caught him, but he could see from their reflections that Nell was engrossed in her phone either texting or emailing someone. He arched an eyebrow as he waited for her to realize that he was there. After a moment more, his brow furrowed at the realization that she still had not registered that she was not alone. If he had been the enemy, she would have been dead by now. He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward her, but paused when she held her phone up as if to take a picture of her reflection, looked-up, loudly squeaked as she saw that her reflection was no longer alone in the mirror, and instantly dropped her phone.

Yes, squeaked, however loud it was, it had still been a squeak. Callen blinked, because he was fully prepared for an outright panic attack or at the very least a blood-curdling scream.

She turned around quickly as if to hide her naked skin from line of sight then possibly realizing that the mirror still displayed that skin, she turned and backed up to the left wall. Her eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks and neck reddened in embarrassment, and her mouth parted as if to say something, but words refused to flow.

"You realize that if this had been part of your field readiness evaluation, you would have failed a good chunk of it, right?" Callen asked, as if it was normal for him to sneak in on her as she dressed. He picked up her smart phone from the floor as he continued to speak, "Constant vigilance is a must even when, no, especially when you feel safe, because that is when you are must vulnerable."

"Callen!" Nell harshly whispered, "What are you doing? Get out!"

"Nell, you don't have to whisper," He whispered teasingly before his blue eyes trailed once more from the little crease of irritation in her forehead down her face and neck, which he registered that Tara must have applied some sort of cosmetic to the skin, because there was no evidence of what had transpired earlier. His dilated blue eyes continued to trail down her body to her adorable bare painted purple toes. Subconsciously, he recognized that he must have it bad for her when he thought her toes adorable. He smirked as his pupils dilated even more so; he continued speaking, though no longer in a mocking whisper. "I'm admiring an intelligent woman. I have no plans on leaving until I get what I want."

Yet, he had not decided exactly what he wanted.

She swallowed and blinked. She hated how he made her feel. She was mad at him, mad that Mike had made her question what Callen thought of her, whether she was capable or not at her job. However, that anger she felt for him, was secondary to the attraction she felt. Her pupils dilating as he closed the distance between them. She bit her bottom lip. She raised her head, looked up at him, brown met blue as eye contact was met, she refusing to be backed into a corner, although her back was literally against a wall, he assessing her, memorizing the golden specks of her irises. Her pulse quickened and it seemed as if her heart was beating out of her chest, the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. She had easily fallen into a façade of bravery and strength, that she was challenging him ever closer with the look in her honey brown eyes. Rather untimely for the realization, but for the first time, she understood how and why he was so good at his job. It was quite liberating to pretend to be someone or in her case something else that you were not. She was not seductive or sensual, she was always just one of the guys, but in this moment, she could be whatever she decided, because it was a façade, or so she allowed herself to believe.

He needed to know whether she trusted him, because if that trust was broken, how he feared it was, then the Op would go to hell in a hand basket, and both of them would deliver it. He could ask her if she trusted him, but that would plant the idea in her head that he thought that she did not trust him. So, with that in mind, he formed a plan and he began to execute it. If she reacted to him positively then he would know that she did trust him with at least one thing, which would be a start. He placed her smart phone in her right hand, her unharmed hand, making sure that his fingers lingered just a tad too long to be appropriate. He, then, placed his palms on the wall above her head on either side of her head.

Her breath hitched and she sucked her bottom lip in her mouth. Her eyes left his and trailed over his cheekbones to his oh so kissable lips, which smirked as he followed her gaze. He leaned in as she raised her body unto her purple tipped toes. Their mouths only a few inches away now, slowly, and teasingly the space dissolving before their eyes met again searing the other with the intensity in them, until finally their lips touched. The kiss was patient and sweet, though to Nell it felt more intense than the ones in the boatshed that were frenzied calculation. She could feel the power, the restraint that he possessed as they kissed. He brought his right hand from the wall to the side of her neck. He trailed his fingertips down her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm, before his hand settled on her waist. Wherever he touched her was on fire and gooseflesh had formed in anticipation, his hand left her waist. His fingers trailed to her back. Her brow furrowed as she felt and heard the zipper of her dress being zipped. Once the dress was zipped, he pulled away from the kiss, bringing his right thumb to her bottom lip and gently caressing it, further smearing the dark pink lip-gloss she had applied earlier in the attempt to conceal the reddening and slight bruising from the boatshed kisses.

"What?" Nell asked confused as she attempted to regain control of both her mind and body. Why had he zipped her dress up? Talk about mixed signals. Only a few hours in the preliminary Operation and his mixed signals was making her dizzy.

Callen smiled and tucked both hands in his pockets. Instead of revealing his plan, he twisted his actions into something else, he asked, "If I had asked, would you have let me zip it for you?"

Her lips formed a thin line. Her eyes hardened, her jaw clenched, and she tilted her nose upward just so. She did not like being played or manipulated, "Callen," She firmly stated, her chin rising just a bit more, "If this is going to work between us, you need to communicate with me. Do not take advantage of me, do not play me, and sure as hell don't manipulate me!"

His eyebrows shot upward surprised at her reaction and he made the mental note never to intentionally anger her unless he had no other choice or whether he was ready to suffer the consequences, "Nell, you're overreacting," Callen soothed, "I did not take advantage, play, or manipulate you."

"Really?" She asked, her right eyebrow arched, "So, you didn't kiss me, so that you could zip up my dress?" She continued, not giving him the opportunity to answer, "In my experience, the zipper is unzipped during a kiss, not zipped up."

He grinned at what she said.

She almost forgot why she was mad at him until he replied to her both her question and quip.

"I didn't think you'd like our first time to be in a fitting room at work," He replied teasingly as his grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Knowing that what he said would needle and shock her. He should have known better than to do so, with the revelation of earlier not to anger her unless he had to, but he liked seeing her flustered, because normally she was in control, almost too in control. Seeing her not in control made him feel closer to her, the real her, because she was not able to maintain the walls she normally had in place.

Her jaw went slack and her mouth dropped in shock. She pushed past him and with her right index finger and middle finger grabbed the heel straps of the pair of dark chocolate brown open toed high heels, which rested on Deeks jacket on the only chair in the room. He went to grab her elbow, but she jerked away and quickly exited the fitting room before coming to an abrupt stop just outside of it. He followed her, but he, too, stopped. He grabbed ahold of her shoulders as to not knock her down. She numbly stood immobilized, although she desperately wanted to jerk away from him, run to her car, go home, and attempt to restart the day. She had clearly gotten up from the wrong side of the bed and had entered an altered reality such as The Twilight Zone or perhaps even The Trickster from Supernatural had worked his magic while she had slept last night. Anything, she would settle for any of those scenarios to be true, because Hetty Lange had been on the other side of the fitting room door and she had clearly heard something that she should not have.

Hetty Lange stared up at both of them with a look of pure disappointment and fury.

Nell was too shocked and embarrassed to attempt to explain or apologize. Callen, however, opened his mouth to explain, mentally reminding himself not to tell Hetty to mind her bloody business, but Callen never said a word, because Hetty raised her hand, slightly shook her head, and stated, "Save it, Mister Callen, I do not want to know. However, I will say this only once, keep it out of the office from this moment forward! Alias or no alias! Op or no Op!"

With that said, Hetty turned around, and walked back to her office, what she had planned on saying to Nell would have to wait for a different time, a time where Hetty was not tempted to give Callen a true what for, and tell Nell the entire story about what happened with her own blue eyed beau. She was angered at Callen for disobeying her wishes of not starting anything before the completion of the Operation just as much as she was disappointed in Nell for not listening to her. She did not want the young woman to suffer as she had, but she also, wanted the unusual pair to work things out and be a success. However, there was a time and place for everything, and Hetty knew or rather felt that right now it was neither the time nor place for either to start the journey to their happy ending. Life was not a fairy tale nor was it an easy ride. The upcoming months would be a true challenge for them. If their relationship could survive, the uncertainty of what was real, and what was not, surely the relationship would thrive once the Operation was over. However, Hetty feared that the uncertainty would definitely hinder the core of the relationship, which was why she was adamant about the aliases romance to be alias and not G. Callen and Nell Jones.

She wanted them to learn from her mistakes, yet how were either supposed to when they knew not what her mistakes were? Or with whom?

*.*

Meanwhile, back in wardrobe, Nell and Callen shared a confused look as if to ask the other what had just happened, before simultaneously they looked at Hetty whom had sat at her desk, folded her hands, and stared at them. As they watched her, they heard a whistle, not the whistle that Eric used to rally the troops, oh no, a whistle that could be heard at every construction site as an attractive woman walked by. Callen turned toward the sound, to the bullpen, and swallowed as he gently took Nell's elbow, which she allowed, because she had enough scenes to today to last her a month, and lead her to the bullpen. Mike Renko shook his head while his arms crossed defiantly, before he passed them and finally went to wardrobe. Sam Hanna gave Callen a disapproving look, nothing like the one Hetty gave him, but one that made him feel worse, as if to say that he should have known better to subject Nell to censor. Kensi Blye did not look at him, but instead was focused on Nell, almost pityingly. Deeks, on the other hand, whistled again and smiled genuinely at Nell.

"Hot damn, Nell Bell, you look smoking hot in that dress," Deeks exclaimed, shying away from arm reach of Sam, as he did not want another smack to the back of the head, or anything worse.

"And you look quite dashing, Detective," Nell replied as she slipped on the shoes. After Deeks had persuaded Kensi to give him the keys and before they had begun their search for one, Aintin Sorcha, both Deeks and Kensi had changed. Deeks had changed into a two-piece suit with a deep blue button up collared shirt. He looked sharped even with his gruff beard and disheveled hair; it made him look sophisticated, yet rebellious at the same time. Nell glanced at Kensi and tightly, but warmly smiled as the two shared a look that said that they would talk later. Kensi wore a beautiful designer pantsuit the same deep blue of Deeks's shirt.

All of a sudden, the true whistle of Ops was heard, and the team glanced at the staircase. All, but Nell, stared at Eric waiting for him to elaborate on the whistle, since they already had a case, what was the purpose of his whistle?

"Another body was found a few blocks away from the alley where Captain Pike was found." Eric answered each unspoken question. The team started toward the staircase to return to Ops for another consultation, but Nell hesitated briefly.

The person standing to Eric's right, where Nell normally stood, as Eric whistled and made brief announcements, was the same woman from earlier in the restroom. The woman who now shot her a knowing look and disgusted smirk as Callen began to guide Nell.

In that moment, Nell made a decision that no one would ever again make her feel inferior or ashamed of how she felt about Callen, because no matter what actually happened between her and him, she would always care about him. With that decision made, Nell defiantly looked at the woman whose name she did not know, and hooked her arm through Callen's as if to tell the unknown woman, he's mine, get over it.

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**Thank you for reading and to all who have reviewed; individual review replies are in the process of being sent. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favourites, reviews, and constructive criticism. :-)**

_Credit: The phrase "dissolving before their eyes" was created by my wonderful friend Thn Fanfiction over on facebook when I listed a help me fill-in-the-blank sentence as one of my statuses. If interested in becoming facebook friends (please send me a message stating that you found my facebook through this story when you send a request, so that I will accept the request) my URL is facebook dot com backward slash fanficauthorbrengail_


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

The team entered Ops and Eric immediately relayed what the LAPD had sent him.

"An unidentified male was found roughly a mile from where Pike was found." Eric said as a picture of the man came on the screen. The man was Caucasian, mid to late twenties, blonde hair, brown eyes, six foot one. "Early prediction is that he's been dead roughly the same time as Pike. COD a gun shut wound to the head execution style, same as all previous male victims."

"How did LAPD miss a dead body in the radius of another one?" Callen asked Eric, though he stared at Deeks as if he was responsible for the incompetence of the LAPD.

"Well," Deeks drawled, "It might have been just outside of the parameters of the original search?"

Eric shrugged, "Beats me, man," He typed on his tablet then said, "An hour or so ago, a homeless woman found John Doe in a dumpster full of bubble wrap and packing peanuts."

"John Doe so did not have fun popping the bubble wrap." Deeks quipped. The team either shook their head or grimaced. "What? Being dead is the only logical reason to not have fun with bubble wrap, it's like…" He paused to come up with a suitable simile, "It's like a drug to a jonesing junkie; you can't just say no to the bubble wrap, man."

"It might be a coincidence that Doe was found near Pike; it is LA." Eric offered, ignoring Deeks.

"No," Callen stated, "I don't believe in coincidences; especially when the evidence states that Doe was executed the same way as Pike."

"Eric," Nell said as a look of contemplation crossed her face, "How old was Pike?"

A look of confusion crossed his face as he retrieved the information on his tablet, "Forty-six,"

"And, the estimated age of John Doe?" She asked, her index finger tapping against her chin.

"Mid to late twenties," Eric answered not seeing how either age mattered.

Sam stated, in realization of Nell's train of thought, "Eric, run a search for Doe in all the feed you have of Pike, roughly eleven the night before Pike's murder. See if you get any hits for them near each other."

Eric did so, thinking that the search would not find anything, after all, because nothing linked the two other than the area where their bodies were found, each were from different backgrounds; she high ranked military, he an unemployed recent college graduate. He frowned when the search immediately found something from the clips he had logged earlier.

"What?" Deeks asked, seeing his fellow surfer frown.

Eric sent the search results to the large screen. Pike and Doe side-by-side holding hands as their faces were turned in to the other as if whispering. He replied, looking up from the tablet, "In front of the club, in line, seventeen minutes before Pike entered."

"His M.O. changed" Callen stated surprised.

"What?" Kensi exclaimed, none of their information predicted that he would target the combination of an older woman and younger man.

"That is the only good thing that I've heard today!" Deeks exclaimed happily.

"How could that be a good thing?" The woman from the restroom asked.

Deeks answered, "Actually a very good thing. Doyle may target me and Kensi instead of Callen and Nell. I hope that's the case, anyway, Pike and Doe's murders might have been a one off, but," He paused playfully horrified and exclaimed, "Gah! That means a haircut and clean shaven."

Sam closed his eyes, smiled, and shook his head at Deeks.

"Excuse me, who are you?" Callen asked, tilting his head as he took in the stranger's appearance; five-foot-six, long flat ironed straight bottled blonde hair, dark brown eyes, overtly tan, and roughly early to mid-thirties.

As Callen asked the stranger a question, Kensi assured Deeks that he most likely would not have to get a haircut, but teased him about the beard having to go.

"Agent Callen, Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones," Hetty stated walking through the automatic double doors, "Meet Technical Analyst Marisa O'Malley, she will be assisting Mister Beale effective ten minutes ago until the conclusion of the Operation. While," Hetty cleared her throat, "Miss Jones was in wardrobe; the team met Analyst O'Malley in my office, as Mister Hanna and I finished tea."

Sam grimaced at the reminder of the tea he had reluctantly drunk.

Nell pursed her lips and wrapped her arms around her middle; slightly wincing at the irritation the movement caused her wrist.

"Miss Jones, because of the time restraint that we have before you enter the field, effective immediately, your job duties have temporarily passed to Miss O'Malley. Mister Beale will get her up to speed. You, my dear will over the next couple of days receive a crash course in fieldwork. However, I think it best if you were to return to wardrobe at this time. Please pass along a message to Mister Renko, please."

Hetty noticed Nell flinch, but refrained from commenting about it.

"Yes, I shall." Nell answered as she nodded in affirmative, "What is the message?"

"If any of his wardrobe is ruined," Hetty answered, her eyes narrowed, her index finger tapping the air in front of her face with each word she spoke, "I will reassign him permanently somewhere landlocked."

Nell arched an eyebrow, "Landlocked?"

"Yes, Miss Jones, landlocked." Hetty confirmed.

Kensi explained the importance of the threat, "Nell, Mike loves the water. He lives on a boat. Being permanently landlocked would be his worst nightmare."

Deeks exclaimed, "Boat?" He shook his head and looked at Kensi as if she was a new species that he had not known of, he continued in disbelief, "Kensi, it's not a boat, it's a mini-ship!"

"Okay," Kensi shrugged, halfway correcting what she had said, "Fine, a luxurious boat, but a boat nonetheless.

Sam shook his head at Hetty's threat, "Now, Hetty, isn't that just a tad too extreme?"

"Mister Hanna," Hetty answered, "If something happens to _your_ wardrobe, I am not above suspending your privilege of using the Challenger while working a case."

Sam's mouth opened in shock then shut in wisdom. Mike was on his own. No Challenger meant Callen drove his Mercedes. Sam had nothing against the Mercedes, but Callen driving was another story. The only person who Sam hated riding with other than Callen was Kensi. Kensi's driving, although had developed through the years, was much worse than Callen.

"Deeks," Callen ordered, "Tell the LAPD that both Pike and Doe are theirs to investigate, but we want full disclosure and they are not to act against Doyle or his organization until they have received our go ahead."

"But, Captain Pike is Navy." O'Malley questioned, "Why are we handing jurisdiction to them."

Before Nell could retort to the interruption and questioning of Callen's authority, Callen answered, giving the new Tech benefit of the doubt, because her question was legitimate, "Analyst O'Malley, how do you propose us to investigate a murder that more than likely happened in the club that we'll infiltrate as aliases?"

O'Malley wisely pressed her lips together and refrained from asking more questions or causing further interruptions.

Deeks answered Callen's order about the LAPD, "Sure thing, since we all will be in the field, I'll have them keep Hetty and Eric apprised."

Callen nodded.

Deeks walked across the room and paused in front of Nell, he extended his arm in a courteous manner, and said playfully, "Milady, I shall escort thou to thou destination, if thou shall have thee."

Nell giggled and slipped her arm through his as she giggled and said, "Thank you, kind sir."

Callen growled at the sight of her the two leaving arm in arm.

Kensi and Sam shared a knowing, amused look.

Eric rolled his eyes.

Hetty smiled at the charm and sense of humour that Marty had. They all relied on him to diffuse tension and tough situations with his humour, although Hetty feared that eventually that humour would not be enough.

O'Malley stared at Callen amused, contemplative, and relieved. For the first time since she had heard of the surreptitious plan, she truly believed that it could work; that the legendary Agent Callen could be defeated, destroyed.

Superman had Lois.

Spiderman had Mary Jane.

Batman had Robin.

G. Callen had Nell Jones.

Marisa O'Malley's shared Owen Granger's opinion of the team; it would be a shame to allow the NCIS version of the Justice League to continue to defy the laws they were supposed to up hold; it was long past time for the group to pay for what they had done. Not one of the modern day Avengers would focus on the closest threat, focusing solely on executing the Operation instead. After all, they had never considered Owen Granger from destroying the team from within, because they all strongly believed that not one of the team would betray the other.

*.*

As Deeks and Nell walked arm in arm down the staircase, Deeks said, "Nell Bell, I want you to know that I value you and your friendship, I'm not going to let anything hurt you."

Concerned at the caring, serious tone of voice he used, Nell paused on the next to last stair.

Deeks stepped down unto the floor and moved so that he stood in front of her.

Standing on the next to last stair, she was almost eye level with him. She tilted her head to the left and sighed, "Marty, if you're going to give me a well-meaning, but unnecessary speech about how you worry about my safety and that you don't think that I'm prepared for the field. Please," She squeezed her eyes shut, before quickly opening them, and stressed the following, "_Please, do me a favor, don't say it._"

He grimaced, before he replied, "Nell, I have faith in you. You are going to rock the field as much as you do Ops."

Perplexed, her brow furrowed and she asked, "Then what did you mean by what you said?"

"Exactly what I said," Deeks replied before mixing humour with seriousness only he could, "Sweetheart, you're like my little sister, I've fostered you into my life, and you're not getting rid of me." He paused, exhaled a deep breath before he declared, completely serious, "If Callen so much as bruises your heart, I'll hurt him." Deeks held a pleading hand up as Nell was about to interrupt him, "Let me say this, none of us knows how long this Op is going to be, we could get lucky and the Op will be over in a week, but I highly doubt that. It's looking to be weeks, maybe months. If Callen takes advantage of this assignment, of you, I'll hurt him. I've never been so serious in my life, Nell. He's out of your league, sweetheart."

She inhaled sharply at the comment that she had been guilty of thinking since she had start working for NCIS. However, hearing it vocalized, hurt more than she had ever thought it could.

He continued, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't want you disillusioned by him or what he says or does. He's got twenty years on you," Deeks paused to interrupt her from interrupting him, "Look, age doesn't matter to me, and after the display that you two gave us earlier, it doesn't matter to either of you either, _but_," Deeks stressed the word, "That doesn't change the fact that he has experience, life and work, where you don't. That lack of experience puts you at a disadvantage. He's jaded, dangerous, and quite frankly a little broken. I respect him quite a lot, he's my friend, I see him as a brother, but I draw a line where it concerns you. If he even half attempted to, he could be the player that your Mama warned you about."

Nell cleared her throat, "Deeks," Deeks have her an I-knew-it look, when he recognized that she had reverted back to calling him Deeks, instead of the earlier Marty. Nell continued, "You've nothing to worry about. He, we'll be too focused on the case for any hearts to be broken."

"Watching Callen slip into an alias is amazing, it's actually sort of beautiful." Deeks smiled awkwardly before frowning, "He can become anyone with the snap of his fingers, so he'll be able to become your prince charming, when actually he's the barbaric beast to your bashful Belle." He paused, looked around, no one was walking by or near the staircase, but he lowered his voice to a whisper as he forced himself to look Nell in the eye. His neck quickly became red showing his discomfort at what he was saying, "Nell, it's been hinted, suggested, and eluded, but you need to know what you're getting into. What you two do behind closed doors is your business, and quite frankly it's going to happen anyway, but the difference between you having sex with him, and you having sex with his alias is huge. Doyle's going to want to watch, at least once. And,"

"Marty," She sighed, reverting back to his first name, understanding that he was trying to protect her in a caring way _for_ her, not because he thought that she _needed_ to be protected. She touched the side of his face with her right hand as she whispered, "I know. I don't like it, but I know. I'm not a little girl. I'm a woman. I don't understand why everyone is so finicky about that part of the assignment. Big deal, I have to have sex with him. That isn't a punishment," She paused as he flinched at the confession, she continued unashamed, "Yeah I know TMI, but at this point I don't care. I can separate what is needed for the Operation and what is reality. Callen can obviously. He's Callen; he's professional to a fault." She paused, exhaled loudly, and exclaimed, "I'm sick of hearing about what could happen, what people think will happen. I want this Op to start so what will happen, will happen!"

"Really?" Deeks asked and before he could prevent himself from continuing, he continued on the verge of anger and frustration, "Really, tell me, how in the hell was what happened in the boatshed professional? Was it practice for the big finale? Was it your audition to see if he could get it up? Nell, he's already using you."

She flinched and stiffened at the confession that he knew what happened at the boat shed and the vulgar way he described what had happened, "What?"

Deeks glanced upward before settling his blue eyes on her hazel, "Nell, I'm sorry for my crudeness, but it's true, he's already using your crush against you. Don't get me wrong," He held his hands up in surrender palms facing her, "I would love it if you two could have a happy ending, really I _want_ you to get what you want, but it's Callen, he bails after six weeks and he doesn't date women in law enforcement. He's an opportunist who is afraid of commitment."

"How do you know what happened in the boatshed?" Nell finally asked, after regaining control of her vocal chords. She mentally filed his comments about Callen away, but for now she was more focused about how he knew about the boatshed.

"Seriously?" Deeks asked, surprised that she had not yet figured it out, "Has he gotten you that turned around and distracted?" He shook his head in disgust and disappointment, "Cameras, Nell, cameras."

She squeaked in horror. He blinked at the loud squeak that came out of her mouth. Mortified, she repeated the word, "Cameras." She paused, eyes wide, "That was on tape." Her mouth went slack in realization, "Oh my God, it'll get logged in the case files."

He smiled bitterly, "Now you get it. Doyle isn't going to be the only voyeur, baby doll. The United States Government is going to own the original copy of your first sex tape." He paused, "It will be your first, right? Cause if not, I'll, OUCH!" He yelped in pain when she punched him on the arm, he gingerly held where she had punched him, "Has Kensi been teaching you how to punch, 'cause that legit hurt like a mother!"

She stepped around him, down the last two steps, and begun to walk toward wardrobe. She paused five feet away from Deeks. She turned and smiled sadly at him, "I appreciate your concern, but I can handle whatever happens. I don't need a protector, defender, or an overprotective proxy of a brother, I need a friend who'll support me, even if that means letting me get my heart broken. Honestly, I don't know what's going to happen between me and Callen during or after the Op, but I won't find out until I try."

Deeks smiled sheepishly, "I am your friend, Nell. I just don't want his darkness to engulf your light."

Nell smiled at the analogy he used, "You're actually a closet hopeless romantic, aren't you?"

"Nah," Deeks denied, before he grinned, "I'm out and proud, baby."

Nell laughed, "Thank you, Marty. I don't agree with a lot of what you said, but I heard you and understand where you're coming from." She sobered, "Though, why is everyone convinced that I'm going to end up with a broken heart?"

"Because life isn't a fairy tale, Nell," Deeks answered, "In reality, sometimes Prince Charming can do more damage to the Princess than the wicked villain ever thinks to."

"Well," Nell paused, again shocked at his analogies, "Let's hope that neither hurts the self-efficient woman everyone thinks is a Princess." She paused again, "Sometimes, the Princess hurts both herself and the Prince, but I had better get to wardrobe."

Deeks agreed, "I'll cross my fingers and toes that nothing happens to you while I yield my gun to prevent you from getting hurt."

Nell laughed, waved, and walked away. She stopped when she heard Deeks yell out to her.

"Hey Nell," Deeks called out. "Give Mike a chance. Offer a truce."

Nell stiffened. Deeks noticed.

"Look," Deeks stated as he walked over to her, he whispered, "Mike doesn't trust easily. He sees you as a threat to the stability that Callen has finally captured."

"A threat?" Nell repeated, both confused and outraged, "What? How?"

Deeks sighed, "Don't ask how I know this, because I was sworn to secrecy, but you need to know."

"Know what?" She interrupted him, impatiently.

"The last time, Callen went deep undercover with a woman as man and wife," He stopped when she interrupted him again.

"Was with Tracy, I remember her." Nell declared, "I didn't like her."

"Yeah, I don't think you were supposed to, you know, you crushing on her ex-husband and all." Deeks retorted, before he continued, "But seriously, Tracy broke his heart, and," He paused when she interrupted him.

"Mike thinks I'm going to do the same." Nell guessed, finishing his sentence. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Mike told you this, I know, because he bluntly told me not to be like her."

Deeks crossed his arms, tiring of the constant interruptions, he asked, "Did Mike, also tell you, that Callen left the CIA right after that fiasco of an Operation and joined the DEA?"

"No." She answered. She tilted her head in realization. Her mouth slightly opened in disbelief, "Mike thinks that after the Op is over, Callen's going to leave NCIS to get away from me, like he did with Langley and Tracy."

Deeks did not answer vocally, but the answer was in his eyes, how he looked away from her, and would not look at her.

She exhaled loudly before she promised, "If it were to get to that point, I'd leave first. Callen is the heartbeat of this office."

Deeks finally looked at her, "No one is leaving. I won't let it happen. If anyone leaves, we'll give Granger what he wants. He wants to destroy the team and the fastest way to destroy it would be if Callen left. If you left, Callen wouldn't be too far behind, and it'll be a line of us after him. We'll stick together, okay, no matter what happens, because at the end of the day we aren't just colleagues, we're a family." He sighed, "We'll treat this Op like any other Op. We'll treat Granger like any other adversary who hides behind bureaucracy. It might take a while to get to him, to be able to take him down, but it'll happen."

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_**Thank you for reading. I am so sorry for the lack of updates the past eleven days. Please forgive me. I appreciate the readership, alerts, favourites, and reviews.**_


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

As Nell entered the main area of wardrobe, she considered what Deeks had said. Perhaps he had been right about Callen being out of her league. How would she know when he was being Callen and when he was being his alias? She was discouraged not only about Callen, but that the woman who had been so cruel to her was now her temporary replacement. She was angry. As she walked further into the main area of the wardrobe department, she saw Mike standing on a square six-inch platform while Tara took his measurements.

"You can look Nell," Mike grinned, his bright white teeth shining and his blue eyes twinkled in mischief, "I'm devilishly handsome, I know."

Tara snorted and muttered something about him being a devil. Nell arched an eyebrow amused with him. Perhaps she should give him a chance, offer a truce as Deeks had suggested. They would be working closely together for who knows when. He would be her bodyguard, so she was going to be stuck with him every second of the day. Only getting relief from him at night when she was with Callen, in bed with Callen. She shook her head as if that physical motion would erase the mental image of what her thoughts had caused.

She silently told herself, _"Focus, Nell. Focus on Mike. Mike was a great acquaintance before this and he will be a great friend during and after this. After all, he is the only one that is not coddling you; even Hetty is trying to protect you. He'd be a great ally. He is funny. He can't be all bad, because the others are friends with him."_

The irony that her bodyguard was the only one not trying to protect her was not lost on her. Perhaps she could learn more about Callen through Mike. She knew that Mike would never betray Callen's confidence, but the little things, the details that made G. Callen, G. Callen, were things that she did not know, Mike did. She felt as if she had a better chance at pumping Mike for answers than Sam. She adored Sam, she respected him, but she respectfully feared him, too. Not physically fear, although no one would blame her for it, if she did, but she feared him more on a mental, emotional level. Sam was the closest person to Callen who had been in his life consistently whereas Mike had entered and exited several times due to assignments and transfers. Sam's opinion of her meant a lot to her, because she felt that Sam had the power to alter Callen's opinion of her.

Mike grinned at the distant look Nell gave him, as if she was thinking hard about something. He continued to joke, "You aren't used to such good lucks around here. It's okay, get your fill." He held his arms outward to the side, palms upward as if he was on display for everyone to look at, he added, in a high-pitched girlish voice as placed his left hand on his hip, and made a Z in the air in front of him with his right index finger, "Remember you can look, but you can't touch."

She laughed. He reminded her of Deeks, although a darker, perhaps more dangerous Deeks. More dangerous, because she knew Deeks, trusted Deeks, and neither could be said about how she felt about Mike. Sure, she trusted that Mike was efficient at his job, but anything more than that was unknown. They had never really interacted enough to get to know the other; not to mention that they had gotten off on the wrong foot earlier.

He smiled genuinely at her laugh.

The ice was broken.

Tara shook her head at his antics as she looked up at him, rolled the tape measure, and placed it in her pocket, "Measurements are finished," She told him before she looked at Nell, "Nell, you are beautiful. Is that the dress you've chosen for tomorrow?"

Before Nell could answer, Mike spoke up, "It's your decision, Nell, but I'd save it for Thursday when we go to the one beside Doyle's."

"We?" Nell asked confused.

"Yeah," Mike answered, "Starting tomorrow, where you or Callen go, Sam and I go, no matter how menial or safe it seems."

"Oh," Nell stated, not realizing that they would tag along to a house showing, but it made sense. Appearances would be everything. "Why this dress? I look like a tootsie roll. How is a tootsie roll sexy? No offence, Tara, it's a beautiful dress, it looked better on the hanger, but yeah, I think it makes me look like a tootsie roll."

Mike smirked and playfully said, "You're the tastiest looking tootsie roll I've seen." Her eyes bulged at his audacity. He rolled his eyes, "Joke, Nell, joke, though you are stunning."

Tara shook her head and went to the back of the wardrobe area to start taking out the hem of some of the suits he would wear. Mike jumped down from the stool and walked over to Nell. He whispered close to her ear so that only she could hear, "Callen loves tootsie rolls, but he prefers the kind he has to work at to get to. He gets bored when they are easy to devour," He paused dramatically before he added in an innocent tone, "Tootsie roll pops, of course."

However, Nell understood the message that Mike had wanted to convey, and it was not about the suckers Callen preferred on stakeouts.

She took a step backward and he did the same. She extended her right hand and said, "Truce?" She paused, "I can't promise that you won't make me mad and I can't promise that I won't irritate you, but for the sake of Callen and the mission, I think we can set aside whatever differences of opinion we have." She paused as he took her offered hand, she added, "And I can't promise you that I won't hurt him, but I can and will promise that I will try not to. And, I'll try to be nicer to you."

"Truce," He agreed. He shook her hand and said, "That's all I ask, Nell, try not to hurt him, because he'll do everything in his power to not hurt you."

Nell nodded, walked away, and went back to the fitting room that she had used earlier.

As soon as she entered the fitting room, she locked the door behind her. She slipped off the high heels and shimmied out of the form fitting deep brown dress. She tried on the three other dresses, one aqua blue the same cut as the deep brown, one pristine white A-line dress with pretty embroidered lace sleeves, and one emerald green strapless evening gown with a corset cinched waist. She decided that she would wear the white dress tomorrow and as Mike suggested, save the brown one for Thursday. She loved the aqua blue color of the similar dress, but she could not place the reasoning behind her preference. The aqua blue she would save for a special occasion much as she would the evening gown. Just as she put on the dress she had worn to work, there was a knock on the door, and the doorknob jiggled, but did not turn. She had learned her lesson, however she, also, knew that a locked door was nothing for any of the Agents and even some of the support staff that inhabited the office.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a minute. Unmoving, she stared at it as if in a trance.

"Open the door," Callen said, his voice penetrating the door.

"Don't wanna," Nell replied childishly as she put her shoes on.

The doorknob turned and he slipped into the room. The door closed silently, but she saw him enter, she half expected it. "Callen," She sighed deeply, chastising him as if he was an impetuous child, "Stop showing off your ability to pick a lock."

He shrugged, "If you had opened the door, I wouldn't have had to." He paused, trailed his blue eyes from her hazel down to her feet back to her eyes, "This dress is pretty, but it doesn't show off your sexuality as well as the other."

She groaned in frustration and narrowed her eyes. From the time they had said hello this morning, he had overwhelmed her and she was not prepared to relinquish control over to him. "Callen," She sighed as she resolutely walked to a chair in the corner near the mirrored wall and sat. "You can't keep on doing this," She lightly hugged her midsection as she started to understand why Hetty had warned her not to start anything with him before or during the Op. Nell could not focus and was becoming both upset and scared at how much she was allowing him to affect her. In one breath, she rambled, her tone of voice alternating between normal and high pitched, "I can't keep doing this. It's too much, too soon. I'm not some woman you can flash a sexy grin at, flirt shamelessly with, and attempt to seduce so that I'll fall at your feet and hand you control. I'm not wired that way. I need control, Callen, and when," She paused. She groaned in embarrassment as she glanced at Callen whom was watching her carefully as if she would bolt from the chair and attempt to leave. "And when, gah," She grumbled in frustration.

He walked over to where she was seating, bent his knees, and hunkered down so that they were eye-level, his forearms rested on his denim clad thighs as he clasped his hands together near his knees. He said, "Nell, talk to me. We need to clear the air before in the morning. The Op starts tomorrow with the house showing. We have suspicion that the Realtor is on Doyle's payroll. She shows the house next to him to very few people and when she looked at 'our' financials that was the first house she suggested."

Nell looked up at the ceiling; of course, he wanted to talk about the case, when she was trying to reveal one of her flaws, a flaw that could be fatal. She was a control freak going under cover with no experience that was supposed to play the part of a submissive trophy wife to a man she in reality loved with all her heart, yet the man was only a friend, a colleague, her temporary field partner. She was screwed. "No, you know what," She changed her mind she could not do this, she could not communicate her deepest fears when he was one of them. She feared he would take the control she craved away from her. He was a dominant personality, an Alpha Male; taking control was as easy as breathing. "I'm sorry, I'm just having a meltdown. Ignore me."

"No, I'm not going to ignore you." He retorted. "Especially with what you said, we have to clear the air about any misgivings that you have. I'm sorry that you feel as if the case is too much, too soon, but really, Nell, we don't have the luxury of time for you to get on board and have the proper training of a field agent." She flinched at his honesty, but she was grateful that he was no longer handling her with kid gloves. "I have faith that you can handle it. I am truly sorry that you're being subjected to this sort of case. If I understand your 'meltdown' correctly, you feel as if I'm coming on too strong, right?"

She was silent. She was completely mortified. She was trying to make him understand that it was hard for her to relinquish control to him, even to _want_ to relinquish control to him, was hard, but he spoke about the case. She was going to strangle him and she told him so, "If you keep talking about the frackin' case, I'm going to strangle you."

He blinked surprised by her threat and what she said, "Then what is causing your meltdown? If not the case?"

Her mouth dropped open to form a perfect O. She had thought that she could not become more mortified or embarrassed, but she had and more. She closed her mouth and eyed the door over Callen's shoulder. She had to leave; she could no longer be in such a small space with him. She went to stand, but he stood, blocking her. She felt as if Mike had been wrong about Callen doing everything in his power to not hurt her, because he already was, or rather she corrected herself, that was untrue, because this hurt, this mortification was on her, not Callen. She had misinterpreted Callen's behavior and intentions toward her. She was ashamed of herself for not realizing that Callen had already slipped into his alias. She bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to determine when he had. Her jaw clenched, she raised her head proudly even though she wanted to cower, and she resolutely stared at Callen's shoulder

"Nell," He prompted. The anger and fear in her eyes and in the set of her body language touched his heart and he sighed in understanding, or rather what he thought he understood. Her emotions were all over the place, not even she knew what she was feeling, or thinking, so he was unable to correctly read her. "Come here," He hugged her. She was stiff and unresponsive. "I'm sorry," He apologized.

The trace of hurt in his apology hurt her.

She bit her lip as she loosely, awkwardly hugged him back to try to let him know that she was there for him, but in actuality, how much was she able to be there for him, when she was the cause of his pain? And he, her pain? Not for the first time in the past several minutes, she understood that Hetty had been right. It was best for them to wait until after the mission, but the realization was too late, because whatever it was between, they had started, and if Nell was honest, it had started before the undercover assignment.

She rested her head against his chest. His lips tilted upward in a small, relieved smile at the minor contact. He was uncertain what had caused her to react to him this way, to have this meltdown, to change her mind about them, because earlier she had been fine. His eyes narrowed, as he formed a hypothesis, and he decided that another talk with Mike was due. However, his hypothesis was wrong, her reaction had nothing to do with Mike, but another blue eyed man, himself.

He sighed, "I'll back off. I didn't realize that you don't want to act on our attraction." She lifted her head from his chest and glanced up at him. Her brow furrowed, he continued, "I can see that now. But, we have to put on a show once we slip into our aliases."

She blinked and her brow furrowed more. He was confusing her about talk of the case then their attraction and once they slipped into their aliases. She thought that he had already slipped into his. Had she been mistaken? She hoped so, but she allowed him to continue without interruption.

"I don't know what to tell you," He said regretfully, "To make the case less awkward. Forcing yourself to do intimate acts, even as innocent as kissing someone for the sake of an alias, or a case is one part, practically the only part, of going undercover that I don't enjoy. I don't know how you or how a woman would feel in that situation," As he talked, she stepped back away from, his mixed signals was confusing her and to be honest it pissed her off. She turned away from and busied herself with the dresses that Tara had given her. She smoothed out invisible wrinkles and picked imaginary lint off of the beautiful, flawless, clean dresses. "Maybe you can talk to Kensi about how to get into the mentality, how to block the awkwardness, disgust, fear; whatever it is that is making you uncomfortable with me." He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just know that I'll take care of you and that anything that happens between us won't be judged during or after," He cleared his throat, "You won't be judged by me or the others."

His sentiment was nice and she appreciated his reassurance, but she knew that it was a lie, a well-meaning lie that he might think is a truth. Knowing Callen, he probably believed that they could cut through some red tape, take some shortcuts, find some loopholes and disguise some of what they knew would happen. But she knew better, she was normally the one that executed those shortcuts, loopholes, and hid information within information. She knew that if someone looked hard enough, no matter how much something was hidden, that anything and everything that happened during the duration of the Operation could and would be found. Officially, what was to happen should be in their case reports, not to mention any audio or video obtained would be logged, no matter _what_ was on it. A part of her was grateful for Deeks for pointing it out, for reminding her about the electronic logging, but most of her wanted to revert back to being distracted, being oblivious. Not for the first time since she had heard of the assignment, she believed that there would be permanent repercussions from this particular case. However, she now worried whether she would be able to handle those repercussions.

Their careers, reputations, and so much more would be on the line if it was revealed that Carlton "Carl" and Eleanor "Nell" Grayson were only aliases on paper, that throughout the execution of those aliases, the aliases had been stripped down to the point where G. Callen and Nell Jones were easily distinguishable.

Owen Granger was banking on them to make a mistake.

A fatal mistake.

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_**Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the readership, alerts, favourites, and reviews. I apologize for the delay of the update.**_


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